Scattered Poppy
by Eisteufel
Summary: "Why do you want to go to England if you hate it so much?" "It's because I hate it. Because I hate them so much for what they've done to me. I want to see this whole country kneeling at my feet intoxicated. Begging forgiveness for what they did to China." Lau's story back in China
1. Prologue

_**Disclaimer:**_

_I don't own the characters of Kuroshitsuji mentioned in this story. They all belong entirely to Yana Toboso. The characters which don't belong to Yana Toboso are either historical characters – which I also do not own – or characters of my own creation. I don't earn a single cent with this story - all just for fun._

_**Rated: M **__**for a reason:**__ violence, death/murder, glorification of criminal organizations, excessive abuse of drugs, sexual themes_

_**Pairing:**__ Lau/Ran-Mao (slightly and will take some time)_

_I think Lau and Ran-Mao are two of the most interesting, mysterious and unluckily most underestimated characters in Kuroshitsuji. So I decided to invent their (most importantly Lau's) backgroundstory during their days in good old China. _

_Have fun reading! _

* * *

><p><em><strong>Scattered Poppy<strong>_

_**Prologue**_

_**Once we've invited the Devil**_

* * *

><p>Poppies.<p>

Vast, red oceans of soothing crimson. Brightly glowing in their glorious red and slightly pink colours they were a gorgeous sight growing on our fields.

They were so pretty with their velvet petals which radiated a pleasantly warm light and brought joy into the hearts of everyone who passed by.

It was not until 1839 that we realized there was something more to this little, so innocent flower but it's dashing beauty.

Death, suffering and the corrupt battle for power and influence were brought upon us by foreign strangers with black top hats and suits, speaking languages we could not understand, shouting orders we could not comply with. Fighting us for reasons most of us just could not comprehend.

Four long anguished years we fought against armies of countries we never heard of before.

Fought losing battle after losing battle, saw our villages burst into blazing fires, our children die, our families starve and our country devastate.

The heritages of our ancient culture were consumed by fire in front of our very eyes before we settled an unstable peace with our invaders.

The once so great and victorious empire of China was degraded to nothing more but a colony that simply didn't call itself a colony. The informal colony of another empire.

An unknown empire so far away and beyond the horizon that most of us couldn't even fathom were this militant country that called itself _great_ might be.

We were forced to surrender. Forced to open our harbours for trade, we did everything what was contracted in the peace treaty and nonetheless, the peace shouldn't last long.

Our new so-called "friends" and trading partners got greedier the more we offered to them.

After a second war in 1860 the ancient civilisation that was China had been thoroughly defeated and humiliated to the core. 25.000 of our fellow-countrymen died in one single battle alone.

And once again we opened our country for trade, happy and relieved the war was over and that something like normality came back to our lives.

But we were terribly mistaken.

We underestimated the price we had to pay for this peace. A blood red plague descended upon us like a deep crimson wave washing over our country, invading it by storm.

The colour red.

Once a warm and happy colour, the colour of roses and poppies quickly became the colour of perdition.

We invited the devil to our own country. A devil dyed in crimson, the colour of bloodshed without a cause.

Opium.

* * *

><p><em><strong>Afterword: <strong>_

_I would like to say some words about my new FF before you continue reading the next chapters. The story will deal with the background of Lau so it plays in China between 1860 and roughly 1885. _

_I did some historic research about China during this period but because this isn't supposed to be a correct historical report please take in consideration that some historical facts are altered to fit into the story or changed/left out to highlight the tension. Because the story is written from Lau's perspective it is entirely and throughoutly subjective and does not take every event during the second Opium War and the time after into account. Generally I dealt with history rather freely, just so you know. I hope you like it anyway and see you in the next chapter._

_Greetings, Eisteufel_

_P.S. When I take a look at my planning for this story it will become a rather long one. I hope that does not daunt you ;)_


	2. Bloodred Poppy

_I'm quicker than I expected... I've got some kind of writing flash right now... so please enjoy.^^ If there are any grave mistakes concerning language, please let me know. ^^_

_**Disclaim: **The quotation belongs to Zhuangzi Zhou_

* * *

><p><em><strong>Chapter I<strong>_

_**Bloodred Poppy**_

* * *

><p><em>Once Zhuangzi dreamt he was a butterfly, <em>

_a butterfly flitting and fluttering around, _

_happy with himself and doing as he pleased._

_He didn't know he was Zhuangzi._

_Suddenly he woke up and there he was, _

_solid and unmistakable Zhuangzi._

_But he didn't know if he was Zhuangzi _

_who had dreamt he was a butterfly,_

_or a butterfly dreaming he was Zhuangzi._

**Canton, 1860**

"Liang! Over here Liang! We lose him if we don't hurry," the little boy in the dark blue Tangzhuan called out cheerfully over the wide field of blossoming poppies to the dainty girl running several metres behind him. A pleasantly mild wind rumpled up his black hair when he took a short eager look over his shoulder.

"Not so fast! I can't catch up with you if you run like this," a high, timid voice reached his ears. "Your legs are way longer than mine."

Frowning slightly the boy slowed down his steps before he eventually stopped, turned around and looked anticipating at the little girl wearing an orange Qipao. The flowers in which midst she was standing almost reached up to her thighs and contrasted her dress beautifully.

Crossing her thin arms in front of her small chest she had also stopped on the spot. Pursing her lips she was obviously pouting when she watched the taller boy approaching her.

"Don't be sore," he grinned when he came closer and teasingly tweaked one of her Odangos with his fingers. She curled her lips in silent disapproval. He knew she hated it when he did this. She didn't like to be treated as the five year old girl she was. But it was just too much fun. Biting back a satisfied smile he reached out his hand.

"Take my hand. Then you can't be left behind."

Big, golden eyes looked up at him sceptically, she seemed to ponder if it was a wise decision to follow his advise. She wouldn't be left behind but she would be dragged behind him in order to advance more quickly, that was sure.

"Only if you promise not to run so fast," she required a little sulky and reluctantly took the offered hand. The boy simply kept smiling his faint smile.

"Promised!" he exclaimed in a voice that was obviously supposed to sound honourable.

"But please come with me now. I want you to see it yourself."

At a now more leisurely pace he and Liang continued their way through the field. A remote muffled sound, a strangely dull roaring reached his ears when they slowly approached the little dark-blue coloured butterfly sitting on one of the crimson poppies and lazily fluttering with his paper thin wings.

"We better hurry," the little boy said will he carefully bent down to take a closer look at the frail creature. "There is possibly a thunderstorm coming up very soon. He can hear the boom coming closer. But do you see, Liang?" he whispered lowly while he made a little more room for her to look at the shiny, glittering wings.

"Isn't he beautiful?"

Liang simply nodded vaguely, too awestruck to speech. Her dark golden eyes seemed to become a little wider in pure amazement. As if they were glued to it they followed even the smallest of the butterfly's movements with blatant interest.

"Can we touch him?" she finally breathed conspiratorially as if even the thought alone was objectionable.

"He won't bite you. That's for sure," the boy answered airily and bent down a little further to observe. Carefully he reached out a slightly trembling hand...

A deafening boom made him cringe, his hand flinched. Astounded he watched how the butterfly rose high and higher into the darkened sky.

"Oh... look Liang, the thunder has scared him away," he murmured bitterly disappointed when he watched the blue colour slowly fade into the dark grey shade of the sky.

The grip around his hand suddenly got tighter, the little fingers clinging to his own almost hurt him.

"Don't you think it's strange..." Liang's voice suddenly sounded anxious. Constrained. She also gazed into the sky, an awkward expression of concern written all over her little moon face. "There are no clouds."

Irritated the little boy broke his gaze away from the flying butterfly and took a closer look at the ash grey sky instead.

"Shouldn't there be clouds when a thunderstorm is approaching?" she whispered lowly, squeezing his hand until the knuckles of her fingers became white and stuck out when she kept staring at the dark grey wall that had manifested itself above their heads.

He swallowed hard.

What concerned him the most was that this darkness above them really didn't look like a cloud, just like Liang had said. It was more as if someone had suddenly put a heavy woollen blanket over the usually azure colour. A cold wild wind came up, swept across the poppy field with such severity that the little flower heads bent and bowed, got violently stripped off their leaves until nothing was left behind but sad, naked stems.

Involuntarily he winced. The roaring sound came nearer while the wind freshened up further, thereby lifting the countless dark crimson petals up into the air, twirling them around like a maelstrom of flowers. Everything was dyed in a warm dark red shimmer.

Some of the petals seemed to glimmer more than the others. Radiating a glistening orange light they were taken higher into the air, as if they weighed nothing. They didn't fall to the earth when the storm ceased a little like the other petals did. And within the whirlwind of shining red was the little butterfly again. Fighting desperately with his weak tiny wings against the blowing storm and the swooshing petals. And suddenly within the blink of an eye the little blue butterfly blazed up in flames. One of his crystalline like wings had faintly touched one of the orange petals before flames consumed the frail body, flared up until nothing but ashes remained which were slowly taken away by the wind.

_Sparks._

Instinctively he grabbed the little hand in his own tighter.

"Liang, we must leave! _Now_!" he yelled, instantaneously dragging his little sister with him over the dark red ocean. A peculiar warm wind blew into his face when he ran as fast as he could without loosing hold of Liang. From behind him he could hear the smothered sound of anguished sobbing, Liang was crying in fear and he also felt more and more like he wanted to burst out into tears. He didn't know what to do... he was only six years old himself but he had to carry the responsibility for his little sister. Something bad was happening!

"Come on Liang, we're almost there," he shouted without turning around to look at her. The warm orange sparks got brighter, hotter. There were more of them with every step he took towards his village.

"No!"

Like he had been petrified he stopped his run at once so that Liang dashed painfully against his rear, causing him to lose his footing. He tumbled and landed hard on his knees.

Kneeling on the little hill from which in good weather one could see the entire valley and the deep blue river he froze horribly shocked. Black eyes snapped wide open when they stared down to the bridge crossing the river. Of the once massive bridge was nothing left but a formless heap of crumbled, broken stones. Little figures like tin soldiers fell into the deep gap in the middle of what once had been the Palinkao Bridge. Raging flames licked at the stones, consumed the toy soldiers as red lightning flashed up consistently, accompanied by a sharp loud bang.

"Our village!" Liang screamed in panic. Entirely scared and now crying incessantly.

The little boy couldn't believe his eyes. Thick black smoke arose from the blazing fire on the bridge, interspersed with bright orange sparks where the flames were licking at wood or flesh. They were fighting. The men with the guns shot the people defending the bridge down like rabbits. A monotonous clatter and bang.

Out of nowhere the world around him suddenly got entirely black. A hot wave hit him like a head-high wall, instantaneously it took his breath away, thereby stuffing something inside his throat the painfully felt like steel wool.

With a deafening crack one of the massive canon balls fired off from the bridge hit the little hill they were standing upon. Earth was blown into the air, everything around them seemed to explode in one single massive blow.

He sensed how he lost the ground under his feet, how his body was hurtled through the air like it was nothing but a fallen leaf in autumn.

With a horrible thud that pressed all remaining air out of his aching lungs he hit the ground. A piercing pain rankled through his entire body, he suddenly felt terribly dizzy. Everything turned round and round like a carousel.

Strained he tried to support his upper body on his elbow, meanwhile peering through the only slowly clearing dark clouds.

"Liang? Liang are you all right?" he yelled huskily against the biting smoke and the roaring of the canons. The thick black smoke ate into his mouth and throat, made it difficult to speak or even breathe. His eyes watered, hot tears ran down his soot-blackened cheeks when he realized with relief he was in fact still holding Liang's hand in his own.

_No!_

Pure terror took hold over him when he gazed down at the lifeless, torn off arm which his trembling fingers were holding. An ripped off limb splashing thin sticky threads of blood. Black shreds of burnt skin were hanging from the broken bone like rags.

A vicious nausea was about to overcome him when his eyes spotted even worse.

The body on the field. The remains of the red poppies were dyed in an even darker shade of crimson. Almost black. Blood spilled out of the massive wound on Liang's chest and the hole where her arm had once been. Her beautiful orange Qipao was soiled, saturated with black blood.

"Liang!_ Liang_!" he screamed like he had never screamed before. His voice so full of agony and deathly fear that the sound scared him.

In sheer panic and without thinking he dashed forward but his wobbly legs gave in to the weight of his body, caused him to fall hard on his grazed knees. Hot streams of tears ran ceaselessly over his burning, hurt face, bite into his cheeks like acid.

His throat tightened up painfully so it became difficult to breathe. The sharp smell of burnt flesh threatened to suffocate him when he crawled towards the little body.

Empty golden eyes stared at him blankly. Expressionless. Dead. Slowly an ungainly greyish touch mixed into their once so warm and friendly colour, made it cold and frozen.

Quivering uncontrollably he reached out for her, hold the lifeless body in his arms tightly, pressed it against his chest with all his might, rocked slowly back and forth in a soothing cradle.

"Wake up Liang, please wake up!_ Liang!_" his breathy voice croaked hoarsely, tears were smothering him. The roaring of the canons around him faded into an ongoing whistling sound, everything around him became strangely afar, dull and hollow.

All he could hear was his own choked sobbing and the hiccups violently shaking his body. His right hand still hold on tight to Liang's ice-cold rigid one while he squeezer her as tight as possible in his arms. Greyish-gold eyes stared at him when her head tilted back, single strands out of her undone Odangos brushed against her pale face like sticky seaweed.

"Please don't die... _please don't die_!..."

His voice cracked. Not a single further word came out of his mouth.

And then they came.

Out of his eye's corner he saw them. Slowly they crept towards him. Like the monsters in the stories his grandmother had always told him they approached him like evil spirits. Men in dark uniforms, carrying guns and swords. And somehow... the little boy couldn't explain why but all of them seemed to smile. A malicious sneer written all over their faces, like it had been cut into them by a sharp knife. He crouched up into a bundle, frantically trying to protect the dead body within his arms.

Agonizingly slowly they were coming closer, speaking in a language he did not understand. Shouting and joking in a foreign tongue.

The boy did neither have the strength nor the will to fight back anymore. It would have been in vain anyway. His more and more fading out mind only marginally realized their vicious kicks and blows. How they punched him severly into his stomach. His head snapped back painfully when he was brutally slapped into the face so he fell to the ground. The bitter coppery taste of his own blood filled his mouth, made him want to throw up immediately.

His arms let go off the corpse, numb and heavy they laid next to his aching body.

He couldn't stand up. He didn't want to. The last final kick into his rips made him cry out in agony.

He could smell the sweet scent of the flowers when the world around him faded away, lost all it's contours and colours. Even the red poppies faded to grey.

They would kill him. He was sure. They had killed Liang... only a few more kicks and everything would be over. Only a little more pain and he would be able to die in peace.

But the sounds of fighting slowly became silent. As if the whole world suddenly had held it's breath he could only hear one thing. The reason why he fought one last time to turn his aching head towards the direction of the almost inaudible sound he was hearing. Blood dripped from his lashes into his eyes, clouded his gaze when he stared expressionless into the sky. And then he saw what had made the faint fluttering sound. It almost alighted onto his nose before he scared it away with his movements.

A butterfly.

A single, little blue butterfly - just like the one he had seen before. Light-heartedly he flew hither and thither into the burning sky.

His vision blurred when unconsciousness tugged at the very edge of his mind. Everything became hazy and indistinct, slowly but consistently consumed by the raging orange-red lights of the devouring flames around him. A weak little smile crept onto his burst and swollen lips.

Desperately his shivering hand tried to reach out for the butterfly but even though he tried as hard as he could it was impossible for him to reach the frail creature. He simply flew high and higher until he perished. Eaten by the sparks.

Just like Liang.

The little boy who laid there on the scarlet field of flaming poppies in full bloom, while his home, his whole village and everything he held dear burnt to the ground while his weak fingers still clung to the torn off arm of his murdered and mutilated younger sister...

This little boy was me.

* * *

><p><em>Oookay... now I am scaredanxious/nervous of what you think about this chapter...^.^_

_For those of you who want to know some historical background: I'm referring here to the Battle of Palinkao in 1860 were the Chinese were beaten by the British. The rest of this chapter might appear familiar to you due to episode 20 of the Anime. ^^_

_Greetings, Eisteufel_


	3. The Witch

_^^ Thank you for the comments. And I hope you have fun reading the new chapter._

* * *

><p><em><strong>Chapter II<strong>_

_**The Witch**_

* * *

><p><strong>Shanghai, 1870<strong>

Shanghai.

"The Great World" as the harbour town in the Delta of the yellow river Yangtze was affectionately called by those who inhabited it.

For some Shanghai was the accomplishment of all their desires. For most, however, it was a never satisfied Leviathan.

Day in, day out attracting new victims with its glorious, bright colours of the night and the pulsing rhythm of life and amusements. Boastfully promising all a man could ever wish for, just to consume each and everyone who had dared to come close enough to this dangerous flame. Mercilessly they were drawn to it like a helpless little moth to the tempting fire of a candle, dragged deeper into the abyss until there was no turning back and the once so promising lights burned them to nothing but ashes.

The never saturated city of Shanghai was eating its children. Slowly. One by one.

To make room for the never ending stream of new willing victims who just couldn't resist it's deceitful beauty.

A dirty, garbled city.

Overcrowded by people, bursting at all seams it extended further and further. Since Shanghai had opened itself for trade with the West almost ten years ago it had quickly become one of the most important transshipment points in the Far East. Trading with any kind of goods, both legal and even more illegal ones. Shrouded into a disgustingly sweet, foul smell it was always high on opium. The whole city was in search for the dragon.

Always and everywhere hectic stir and busy chaos reigned in the narrow streets. As far as the eye could reach men and women were shouting and yelling in an innumerable amount of languages. Running over the littered roads, offering all kinds of useful and useless things for sale, blocking the gravel streets on which sweaty, stressed out rickshaw drivers tried their best to cut their way through the omnipresent hurly-burly of horse carriages, pedestrians, running children and fellow rickshaw drivers. Always careful and anxious to make room for the few sedan chairs with their dark red satin curtains, probably hiding some almond eyed beauty from the capital.

Down at the stinking docks of the Yangtze, the vital line of Shanghai, bulky men discharged shipment after shipment to make room for more goods supposed to be exported into the wide world. Drunken sailors stumbled their way across the little passages between head-high stacked boxes of cargo. Always in search for more alcohol and some other entertainment a man would need after a long journey. The pubs, brothels and opium dens down there never feared a decline in customers. Even if some of the rowdies were thrown out of the establishments rather ungently they always came back without complaints – with money in their pockets, remembering nothing.

Day after day. All the same. The little red lanterns swayed slightly in the wind. Unimpressed.

This was the bottomless pit called Shanghai.

But sometimes, only sometimes there were these short precious moments, not much longer but the blink of an eye, when one could almost forget where one were. Just blank out the bad, sticky smell, the turmoil and annoying noises – the shouting of the old woman selling chicken on the nearby Nanjing Road, the dirty jokes of the men loading the ships, the drunken sailors singing their sea shanties and the way too high pitched voices of the prostitutes giggling.

Lazily the deep orange sun disk rose over the dark but glimmering water of the yellow river. The last remains of the grey fog of the night were dyed in soothing tangerine, slowly fading into a lighter shade of pink.

The sleeping city slowly opened it's still tired eyes to the rhythmic sound of the swiftly flowing Yangtze.

In the distance the masts of some western clippers with their bright, white sails topped the little junks with their reefed, blood red canvasses and dimly shining Chinese lanterns.

And suddenly, just like an apparition or a ghost from another, distant world The Witch appeared. Not much more but a formless shadow at first it quickly manifested itself against the colourful sky and the rising deep orange sun.

Her massive metal enhanced hull cut through the water like a knife, with it's gigantic white sails it ran before the wind, heading for the docks of Suzhou Creek.

_Cutty Sark. _

The Witch, how everyone respectfully yet a little teasingly called her.

Since her maiden voyage about three months ago she was the fastest of her kind, the Tea Clippers, sailing between London and Shanghai.

Awestruck I sat on top of one of the cargo boxes and stared open mouthed at the massive figurehead floating above the waves like a seductive goddess.

A beautiful pearly-white women with long flowing hair, holding in her extended hand something that vaguely resembled the tail of a horse.

I had no idea what was the purpose of this woman attached to the ship but if it was the intention of the Englishmen to intimidate us even further then they very much succeeded. Even though the woman was pretty, it was a rather impressive, almost frightening sight watching her coming closer.

I narrowed my eyes to slots to shield them from the dazzling sun, still eager to take a closer look at The Witch. I never saw her that close and it would be the first time for me to help loading her.

The metallic rattling of the anchor chain and the subsequent splash of water made me wince. Within seconds the short moment of peace and tranquility had vanished completely, had instantaneously made room for the loud shouting for the English sailors, yelling orders and commands I did not understand at all. Down there at the pier their Chinese trading partners buzzed around like bees, yelling the same orders the Englishmen did but in Chinese this time.

With a loud thud the plank hit the landing stage.

They always appeared so stiff.

With their dark suits, their canes and overly long black top hats they always looked to me like walking statues. And their perpetual stern, expressionless faces looked like they were always and everywhere expecting the worst. So this time was no exception when they went down the plank at a very leisurely pace. Screwing up their noses due to the fishy smell surrounding them they were unfolding little white handkerchiefs which they held over their mouths affectedly when they greeted their Chinese trading partners with a short nod.

It made me sick to my stomach to see them like this. My fellow countrymen, how they bowed their heads, bend their backs to degrade themselves even further.

Damn, spineless cowards!

But... one man on the pier caught my attention in particular. He was the only one who did not bend and bow, who simply nodded in the same dismissive way the foreigners did.

Keeping both of his hands hidden within the wide sleeves of his Thangzhuan he observed the landing of the ship eagle-eyed with a faint little smile dancing around his mouth's corners which were framed by a neatly cut, very thin moustache.

He was a tall man. Tall and slender, his heavy Tangzhuan almost reached his ankles and shimmered in the colour of jade. A very dark, intense green. And like a precious gemstone it was glimmering in the now quickly rising sun thus the ornamental embroideries depicting carps appeared almost blue.

The dress was expensive, I could tell even from this distance. Very expensive. Made of nothing but pure silk.

His long black braid almost reached his hips, was swinging slightly with every step he did as he approached one of the Englishmen. The wicked little grin still in place, even when he was talking to them.

I had to swallow hard to clear my throat from something that felt dangerously like bile.

Damn traitor!

Of course he would have money if he carried on trade with _them_. The people exploiting our country, bringing nothing but death and destruction and yet there were people in China - but above all in Shanghai – who very much appreciated the fact that the harbour had been forced to open itself for the West.

"Lau!"

I winced involuntarily which caused me to almost fall down from the stacked boxes. Only at the last second I managed to keep the balance before I looked up angrily, glaring poisonous daggers towards the direction the shouted command had come from.

"Stop daydreaming this instance and get your damn little ass over here! The ship does not discharge by itself!"

I released a low sigh but I nodded quickly.

With rigid, aching limbs - due to a very unpleasant night on the hard floor of a rundown house and the long crouching on top of the cargo - I slid down from the wooden box, heading towards the pier with vast steps. The last thing I needed was more scolding from this damn slave driver who was responsible for supervising us lowly creatures whose only purpose was to bent our backs and obey.

Quickly I was walking towards The Witch.

Well... it was time to say hello.

* * *

><p><em>See you next week ^.^<em>


	4. Black Beads

_Hello there,_

_I'm so sorry that it took me so long updating this story... _

_To be honest I had some very severe technical problems like a virus on my Laptop so I couldn't write anything at all. _

_That was kind of unpleasant. ^^ Well, at least my storyline for this FF could be restored – with some other rather important things ;) – so everything is just fine now. Finally._

_Well… so to come to an end of a long story which has not much to do with the actual story at all:_

_Please feel free to read and comment and enjoy yourselves. All kinds of reactions concerning the story are – as always – very much appreciated. _

_Going to update sooner with the (now not so new anymore but still) new year. _

_Greetings, Eisteufel_

* * *

><p><em><strong>Chapter III<strong>_

_**Black Beads**_

* * *

><p>It was almost noon when the crew had finally managed to discharge <em>The Witch<em>. The blazing sun was mercilessly radiating its burning rays upon our bare, aching backs when we received the order to ship the cargo supposed to be shipped to England right afterwards. Loud groans and hissed, constrained curses were the answer to this rather unpleasant news. It ment no lunch hour or break at all. My stomach was already growling like a starved out animal but there was no point in arguing.

The air was shimmering and the eye-stinging smell of sweat and moulding seaweed was filling the lower decks of _The Witch_ and the little narrow alleys connecting the different parts of the docklands like a fine yet somehow chaotic cobweb.

Shielding my eyes from the dazzling midday sun with my hand I took a last short yet dismissive look at the woman with the horsetail in her reached out hand – she didn't look any better or less frightening in full daylight either – before I did my best to heave the heavy burlap bag to my feet on my back without an anguished cry of pain. Adjusting my burden as good as I could without losing my footing on the slippery stones, I stumbled my way towards the gangplank until I finally managed to climb the wooden board with faltering, strained steps. My limbs were heavy and felt like they weren't part of my body anymore but the decisively worst part was my already numb and grazed back whose skin was painfully chafing against the rough cloth of the bag with every single little movement my legs fulfilled. The salty yet oily breeze from the sea rumpled up my wet hair and did its best to extinguish the fine lines of sweat, running down my temples and to cool my burning cheeks when I breathlessly entered the ship in order to climb down the steep ladder to the cargo hold.

This was the worst part. _Definitely._

Considering the fact that these bags were containing nothing, but dry tealeaves that wouldn't get damaged if one would toss them around, it would have been the easiest way to just throw them into the cargo department and avoid climbing down a small, warped ladder with the heavy weight drawing down your body. But I cast the idea away as quickly as it came. If the damn slave driver would see me doing this to his precious goods, it would have mean another rather unpleasant night on a wet floor – presumably with some nice little bruising here and there. It just didn't sound appealing.

Taking one last deep breath to steady myself and my exhausted body, I readjusted the bag on my shoulders one last time before I carefully entered the first rung of the ladder with trembling knees.

Slowly I went down rung after rung until something suddenly yanked at the linen of the bag.

"Oh please no!"

But it was already too late. I turned around as fast as I could without falling and only marginally realized the old rusty nail sticking out of the slightly splintered wood above my head.

When I had heard the faint sound of cloth being torn apart I couldn't do nothing more but stand there and stare blankly and with racing heartbeat how the content of the bag poured over the single rungs of the ladder and sticky floor like spilled water.

"What the hell...?"

Dumfounded I lowered the half-empty bag in my hands like I had been hypnotized, my eyes still attached to what had washed over the floor.

That was definitely not tea!

I could literally feel how my eyes snapped wide open in surprise. Instantaneously and without further thinking I jumped down the last three remaining rungs and went down on my haunches to take a better look at what at first sight appeared to be little, black marbles made of low quality because there was not a single one entirely round and smooth. Even the waifs and strays living in the backyards of the docklands would have complained about its cheap workmanship.

The uneven beads rolled and wobbled over the wooden floor and spread themselves over the entire deck in no time. More and more of them oozed out of the long thin tear which the sharp nail had ripped into the linen bag that was lying there formlessly over one of the spokes.

Carefully my fingers reached out for one of the little black beads which had lazily wobbled its way right between my feet.

Something was tightening around my throat, made it suddenly difficult to breathe or even swallow. Like an invisible garrotte I got tighter and tighter. I could feel my flesh creep.

At a closer look I recognized the slightly sticky and wax like substance immediately and the realisation hit me like a ton of bricks, made my heartbeat increase painfully.

"_Opium_."

Involuntarily I winced, surprised that I said it out loud. My lips had formed this word as if they had a life of their own. I could feel how a shiver ran down my spine. Suddenly I felt cold.

"Put that down boy, if you know what's good for you!"

The composed, dark voice pierced marrow and bone. It was a voice way too loud for this little room.

Numb, trembling fingers let go off the black bead as abruptly as if it had been suddenly turned into nothing but boiling iron when my head snapped towards the direction of the voice so quickly my neck hurt.

I was caught.

I did my best to shield my eyes from the bright light shining through the cargo hatch, illumination the slender, black figure standing on the second rung of the ladder from behind. At first I couldn't see anything but vague contours, a tall shadow surrounded by glaring light - like a halo. At a very slowly pace he went down the steep stairs, the dark, heavy Thangzuan faintly reflected the sunlight with every step he took, shimmered in a deep, mesmerizing green.

"Get on your feet, boy!" he commanded in a manner that revealed that he was used to give orders. And even though I wanted to, I just could not mobilize my limbs to move properly. They just didn't move!

I was still kneeling on the floor when he finally approached me and a pair of very expensive silk slippers found their way into my field of vision.

"I said stand up!"

Even though the rest of my body was still as rigid as a twig in winter I eventually managed to lift my head again and take a closer look at the person's face. My heart skipped a beat and painfully throbbed against my ribs. Like a slap in the face I recognized the man who was standing in front of me. The one with the wicked little grin I had seen before when the ship had landed. My knees creaked when I slowly forced my legs to do their duty and returned to an upright position, facing my opposite with more and more disgust.

_The traitor who is carrying on commerce with these English bastards! _

The fine, neatly cut ends of his moustache twitched slightly when his mouth's corners formed a little evil sneer.

"Well then boy, I fear it wasn't your best idea to damage this bag", he hissed only seconds before I could feel a surprisingly strong hand around my throat, squeezing it, like it was nothing.

* * *

><p><em>^^ See you next week!<em>


	5. Encounter in the Shadows

_Hello there,_

_well, it took me some time to write this but here it is... finally. I hope you enjoy it ;) _

_Greetings, Eisteufel  
><em>

* * *

><p><em><strong>Chapter IV<strong>_

_**Encounter in the Shadows**_

* * *

><p>The vicelike grip around my neck painfully intensified when razorblade sharp fingernails were digging itself deeper and deeper into the sensitive skin of my throat, left dark red scratches and bruises behind. Slowly but surely my panicking mind realised I was suffocating. The world surrounding me started to spin around like a carousel, got more and more hazy and indistinct with every elapsed second, while I desperately tried to fight for sufficient air.<p>

My eyes snapped open when the pressure got even more intense, made me pant incoherently, greedily gasping for air. Like I was looking through a fogged up window I saw nothing else but his eyes. Deep, black pools staring down at me in such a cold and merciless manner, that there was no question about his intentions left at all. When my mind started to faint out, these charcoal eyes slowly got dyed in a dim shade of greyish white.

_Do something Lau! You'll die here! Fight back! Do _anything_!  
><em>

My fingers felt so terribly numb and heavy as if they were wrapped up in thick, woollen cloth while they were hectically browsing through my pocket in oder to grasp the handle.

_Got it!_

My hand fulfilled movements on its own, like someone was pulling the strings. The world was about to be smothered completely by soothing white, I only marginally recognized the contours of my opposite anymore.

"Unhand me!"

The sound of my own muffled and raspy voice, that didn't sound like me anymore at all, startled me for a second, when I had finally managed to pull the little knife I usually used to cut my lunch into pieces from my pocket. The blade faintly reflected the little light that had found its way deep into the internal parts of the ship. Desperately my trembling hand was holding the sharp edge against the throat of my attacker.

"I said let go of me you damn traitor! _Now_!" I repeated in a failed attempt to yell at him but nothing but a weak, husky whispering could be heard. The blade of the knife was anything but sharp but I desperately hoped that he wouldn't recognize it and that the simple fact that it _was_ a knife would suffice to stop him.

He actually paused when his black eyes shortly scanned the knife and its blade pressing itself against his chin. The pressure around my throat lessened slightly and left me a little more space to breath. But the fingers did not withdraw. While the world around me slowly gained back its usual colours my opposite simply kept staring down at me, with this piercing onyx gaze of his.

"My my," he eventually chuckled when he finally released me with a small shrug of his slender shoulders. My legs gave in without prior warning so I dumbfounded stumbled against the wall behind me - breathing heavily and incoherently, stoically ignoring the strange pain throbbing inside my chest.

_Don't faint! Just don't faint! _a little voice inside my head almost screamed in panic when for a second everything faded to black. Fighting the overcoming unconsciousness I forced myself to keep looking at the stranger without batting an eyelash, although I felt the sickening feeling of an upcoming nausea creeping up my throat. My fingers were still clinging to the handle of my blunt knife like it was the only savour in a vast and wild ocean.

"You've got a pretty good look in those eyes," the baritone voice suddenly disrupted the silence. The rustling sound of cloth accompanied every of his movements when he crossed the arms in front of his chest and hid this hands within the sleeves before he walked at a leisure pace towards the ladder to the exit. With a swift elegant turn he sat down on the third rung and crossed his legs, still eyeing me like a vicious vulture.

"I like this look. It shows no fear."

The painful pulsing of my own blood behind my temples slowly ceased but I was still convinced that I must have had misheard his last words. He simply snickered.

"Trying to threat me with this blunt bread knife of yours… you sure got courage," the sneer widened into a full-blown grin which I didn't like at all. "It's not that I mislike that."

"Lucky you," I snapped but realized the same moment that my voice had cracked, making me sound rather pitiful.

"Come on, sit down boy!" he suddenly demanded while putting his left hand right onto the space next to him in silent invitation. I didn't move a muscle.

"Why would I?" a strained hiss escaped my mouth. "A minute ago you wanted to kill me and know you want me to sit down next to you? Why?" I inquired constrained and instead of sitting down next to him I simply crossed my arms in front of my chest defensively. I was still trying to clam down my racing heartbeat which felt like it would break my ribs any second. The whole situation seemed so outright weird that my mind and already aching head came to terms with it. But although I didn't have a clue what this whole situation was all about I knew one damn thing for sure: That I didn't want to get any closer to this man and I didn't want to fathom the possible further armory hidden under the copious amounts of silk he was wearing either. Involuntarily my grip around the wooden handle of my knife intensified until my knuckles got white and ridgid. Meanwhile my opposite just kept on his usual smiling as if it was above all more of a habit than a real sign of amusement. His hand tapped onto the wooden rung again.

"Talk. A simple little chit-chat lightens the heart, don't you think?"

"No. I don't think so."

"Well, that's a shame because I'm afraid I won't leave without having a word with you, my dear. I've got all the time in the world. You too?" his suddenly soft voice replied in some kind of sing-song as if it was a funny little nursery rhyme he was telling me. I had to swallow hard to clear my throat from something that felt decisively like steelwool. A deep sigh escaped my dry mouth before I reluctantly forced my legs to move. There was no real choice considering the fact that he was _in fact_ blocking the only exit to this gloomy cargo department.

As far away as possible without falling from the small rung I huddled up next to him, still holding on tight to my knife when at the same time I cringed involuntarily and wrapped my arms around me to muffle the vicious rumbling of my stomach.

"Hungry?"

He asked even though it wasn't really a question, it was more a plain statement. Looking down at me he was eyeing every of my movements with an unreadable expression on his angular face. Smiling this fine little smile I had already seen when he was greeting the Englishmen, he started to fiddle within his sleeves. Out of nowhere he triumphantly pulled an apple which must have been hidden somewhere in the depths of one of his oversized sleeves. It almost looked like it was some kind of magic trick. The cheeky smile widened and revealed surprisingly white teeth when he offered me the apple his bony fingers were holding.

Although I thought I was way to exhausted to form any kind of facial expression, I must have looked appalled or at least anxious because after a short look into my face he burst out into a full-blown, baritone laughter.

"Just take it, boy! I didn't have the time to poison it!"

He put the apple onto the ladder right between us before he turned his head away again. I was watching the so innocent appearing apple sceptically. The thought to take food from someone who wanted to kill me with his bare hands only minutes ago made my flesh crawl. If only my damn stomach would stop growling like a wolf pinched with hunger…

_Damn it!  
><em>

I sighed.

_Stomach beats brain one to nothing._ If the Gods want you to die than that's how it should be!__

Greedily grabbing the apple I just started to realise the real extent of my hunger while eating it. Chewing absently on one bit I let my gaze roam through the cargo hold. From above here the little opium beads just looked a little like precious, black pearls, which were thoughtlessly scattered over the floor.

"I would do it differently, if I were you," I stated dryly, still nibbling at my apple, still staring at the opium beads.

Eyeing him from one corner of my eye I could see how one of his thin eyebrows was lifted slightly.

"Go on."

"Teabags."

I shrugged my shoulders, chewing on the sweet fruit.

"Put the opium into teabags."

My saying earned me an even more surprised look from aside but he didn't interrupt me.

"If you mingle the opium beads with cheap tea and put it into teabags together, nobody will realize what the real content is. Even if something like that will happen again," I added lowly while pointing with a short nod of my chin towards the vast number of little beads slowly wobbling across the floor with any slight movement the ship made.

_Just how stupid are you, Lau?_ The voice inside my head already scolded me and I just wanted to bit my flippant tongue when my encounter suddenly burst out into the loudest and heartiest laugher I had ever heard in my entire life. His whole body was shaken by the laughs, he had to dry the tears running down his cheeks with his wide sleeves.

"Sneaky little boy," he giggled between the intervals of the laughter before he finally managed to get a hold on himself again. Still holding his stomach with his left arm he harrumphed dryly when he swiped away the last few remaining tears as if nothing had happened.

"There is more to you than the eye can see, am I'm right?" he asked enigmatically.

I didn't know what to answer to this strange kind of question at all so I decided to better keep silent as a precaution. For my taste I had already said way too much. Though he was now friendly and almost easy-going I just didn't need another assault with whatever weapon he was hiding within his sleeves.

"I wonder if I should feel appalled by the fact that I didn't think about this possibility myself?" he mused, while curving the overly long fingernail of his index finger around his mouth's corner like he was in deeply lost in thoughts.

"Do you, by any chance, fancy a little conversation?" he finally asked, still scratching his chin without even looking at me.

"Aren't we having a conversation right now?"

He was grinning cryptically when his head turned towards me again.

"Yes my dear but I thought about a conversation in a little more private setting. For example at dinner at my place."

I instantaneously choked on the last bit of apple in my mouth, resulting in a dry cough that made my body tremble. But the man next to me didn't seem to care about that at all. In a conversational tone he simple continued:

"Because you and I share one rather important characteristic and that's the reason why I'd really like to invite you to a little snack. Your stomach would be very grateful too, you know?" he teased when despite the almost eaten apple the muffled sound of my growling stomach could still clearly be heard.

A more than bad feeling got hold over me. A really, really bad feeling… but the food he was offering was just too tempting…

"Which characteristic do you mean anyway?" was my defiantly snapped counter question. I needed more time to finally decide.

The ends of the thin moustache twitched. I couldn't tell if that was a good or a bad sign. To me it appeared like the unsuccessful try to bite back a malicious sneer.

"Your hate of the English that is," he answered while his hands carried out a condescending gesture as if he wanted to wipe away something rather dirty and disgusting.

"Sure," I answered with just barely concealed sarcasm. "And that's because you carry on trade with them. Because you hate them _so very much_. Of course."

"That's actually the case my dear young friend."

"I'm not your friend."

"Well, you should reconsider it," the strange man sighed slightly the moment he got onto his feet again, causing the amounts of silk to shimmer magnificently in the thin rays of sunlight.

"I don't actually want to take means to make you… but if you're intending to stay as stubborn as you are right now I could fathom myself telling your warden that you damaged one of my precious goods and afterwards tried to threat me with your knife when I caught you in the act. Who do you think he will listen to?"

"That's blackmail!"

My weak scream echoed from the walls and faded away.

"Oh please…" he lifted his arms in a supposed to appear innocent gesture. "Blackmail is such a rude word, don't you think? I'd rather call it a well-meant advice."

With a short hitch of his sleeve he was pointing towards the exit.

"Up you go."

With the worst feeling of discomfort I had ever experienced in my entire life I carefully went up the ladder. The sunlight dazzled me. After the long time under deck it appeared so blazingly bright, it hurt my eyes. Shielding them with my left arm I blindly stumbled towards the direction of the rail and the landing plank.

"Lau! For heaven's sake! _Lau_!"

I rolled my eyes unwittingly. Even without taking a closer look at the person yelling at me I knew this damn voice just all too well.

"Where the hell have you been?" the chubby warden with the always dark, red face – if it was due to the heat or because of his apparently never-ceasing anger I would possibly be never able to tell - was shouting at me from the pier as soon as I had appeared at the ship's rail. He waved his short arms in wild gestures and his baldness shimmered sweaty and reflected the sunlight. Just for how long had we been under deck?

"There's work to do, you lazy, little rat from the gutter!" he continued his scolding but suddenly his movements froze. There was a change in his usual choleric behaviour when his eyes spotted the impressive man behind me who stepped closer to the rail now. I bit back a contented smile when I saw the damn slave driver stumbling on his words immediately.

"Oh… Sir, I'm… I'm so sorry for disturbing you, I was just giving instructions to this good-for-nothing son of a-"

With just one short, swift movement of one his wide sleeves my new encounter cut him off, shooed him away like he was nothing but an annoying fly.

"So your name is Lau," he stated casually, while he put one of his bony hands onto my shoulder, thereby pushing me steadily down the plank.

"Yes… it's Lau," I mumbled tonelessly when I stumbled over my own feet and struggled not to fall from the steep and slippery wooden board. My legs still felt rather rigid and like the limbs of a puppet whose strings had been cut.

"Zhuang Lau," I added quickly when I reached the pier with a deep sigh of relief but knees still rather wobbly. At least I had a last name to tell him. Most of the children living in the streets didn't even have a first name they could claim their own – they just invented one.

The faint smile that seemed to be permanently engraved onto his clear cut features spread into a wide grin as he alighted on the slippery stones of the landing stage as well.

Still pushing me forwards with his right hand, he started to curve the overly long fingernail of his left index finger around his mouth's corners again before he absently twirled the ends of his thin beard.

"Zhuang you say?" he mumbled when he gave the driver of the rickshaw waiting for him a small sign.

"Like the famous philosopher Zhuangzi?"

He suddenly sounded interested.

The tall and tanned, haggard man driving the rickshaw made room for us to enter the little carriage.

"I don't know," I admitted evenly while I was hiking my shoulders in apology, eyeing the rickshaw with a strange feeling of ashamed uncertainty rising inside my stomach. It would be my first time driving in one and I had always pitied the poor men who had to carry their heavy, filthily rich passengers throughout the entire city. However, my new encounter didn't seem to care about such things at all, already way too used to be driven around by others.

With elegant movements he entered the rickshaw before crossing his legs in anticipation like he did on the ladder, while looking down at my in a silent yet a little inpatient invitation. Reluctantly I climbed up the slightly shaky vehicle.

"So you never read his works?" he inquired further as if he was talking about the weather when the rickshaw was suddenly and rather abruptly brought into a more upright position. My fingernails were digging into the velvet cloth of the seats as the driver lifted the handle and with quick small steps faded into the busy traffic of Nanjing-road.

Slowly I shook my head in ashamed refusal. The strange feeling inside my stomach intensified, expanded into a nasty, burning pain and I could literally feel how my cheeks turned red. I had never heard of the man he was talking about and with whom I obviously shared the same family name with before. I had no idea at all but that wasn't the point that made me feel so terribly ordinary.

A pleasantly fresh breeze from the sea cooled my burning cheeks a little while we moved forwards quickly. I'd never imagined how fast one could drive by rickshaw. Curiously I turned my head towards my companion, facing this strange, influential man's profile with ill-concealed interest. He gazed absently into the azure sky like deeply in thoughts. His eyelids were almost completely closed, lazily he was enjoying the wind and the sun on his pale face which gave testimony to the fact that he didn't spent most of his time outside, before he suddenly turned his dark gaze towards me without any prior warning. Deep, almost black eyes – quite similar to the black opium beads – required an answer. A thin eyebrow was raised in anticipation.

A low sigh escaped my dry lips when the carriage headed for one of the more noble quarters of the city but I only marginally realised it.

"I can't read," my raspy voice admitted lowly.

The black eyebrow was shortly lifted a little higher, the faint smile plastered on his face still in place.

"Well Zhuangzi Lau," he made a sweeping gesture with his wide sleeves as if he wanted to embrace the whole word with them. "That was rather predictable but it still is a shame. We should discuss this point further as soon as we are inside."

"Inside?" I repeated his last word dumbfounded when a short jolt made my body slip forward.

With a sudden hitch the rickshaw came to a stand and I stared open mouthed at the great entrance portal towering in front of us. Shaped in the form of an ancient temple gate it was simply impressive, two wooden dragons crowned the pagoda like guardians, the slightly flaked off leaf gold shimmered dimly in the sunlight.

There was this warm hand on my shoulder again, gently pushing me out of the carriage.

"We should do something about it, don't you think?"

Too taken aback to answer I simply nodded vaguely. What could he of all people do about my illiteracy?

"Do you fancy any particular kind of tea, Lau?" my host continued to ask airily when we had gotten out of the rickshaw and walked at a slowly pace towards an impressive looking front door made of dark, heavy wood, adored with little ornaments which turned out to be dancing dragons on closer inspection. I just shrugged my shoulders. I had no idea. The stuff I usually drank at one of the little taverns down there at the docks was nothing else but coloured water. With its undistinguishable muddy colour and its non-existent taste or flavour it probably couldn't even be called tea at all.

"No, anything is fine," I replied constrained, fighting the upcoming desire to just turn around and run as fast and far away as possible when unseen servants opened the door from the inside as if by an invisible hand.

_What on earth have you gotten yourself into?_

* * *

><p><em>See you next week with the revelation who the strange man really is ^.^<br>_


	6. The Girl with the Golden Eyes

_**Chapter V**_

_**The Girl with the Golden Eyes**_

* * *

><p>I swallowed hard to clear my raspy throat when the bony hand on my back pushed me the last two steps over the threshold with such strength that I almost lost my footing and stumbled into the interior of the impressive building. Within seconds I found myself in what looked like a completely different world to me. Open mouthed I was standing in the comfortable shadow of an arcade which was surrounding a bright inner courtyard in the style of a Chinese rock garden.<p>

It was like a head-high wave violently washing over me, crashing down on my head with such severity it took my breath away. Even though it was just a yard it looked awfully expensive with its spotless, ebony-coloured shingles. Shimmering golden and orange carps were drawing concentric circles in a little artificial pond surrounded by neatly trimmed cedars. Somewhere a water play purled lowly.

"Welcome to my modest little refuge, Lau," my companion beamed at me when he stepped over the doorsill - it was just too obvious that he knew all too well that one simply couldn't call this palace _modest_. Not in the slightest.

"Thank you for the invitation," I simply murmured dumbfounded, eyes still attached to the little pond, glimmering in the afternoon sun. At least I still remembered some manners…

Reluctantly I turned my attention away from the carefully manicured garden.

The wide, heavy doors of the entrance portal were closed now and I realized the owners of the invisible hands which had held them open all the time. Two tiny men with long black braids greeted us with a deep bow. Both of them were wearing simple dark Tangzuans. Simple yet still terribly exclusive – judging by the faint reflection of light here and there, they were made of nothing but pure silk too.

"We've got a guest today," the baritone voice of my host resounded through the yard and the two men raised themselves in silent waiting for further instructions. Whatever they might be thinking of me - a little, filthy rat from the gutter whose clothes hung in rags, being the guest of their master - they kept it safely hidden behind their professionally friendly faces. Both smiled in the same kind yet perfectly non-committal manner - they almost looked like twins.

"Make preparations for tea. In about half an hour would be fine. And don't save on a few snacks, my young friend over here is almost starving to death," he snickered while adding the last sentence after short moment of silence. Both men nodded completely simultaneously before the left one turned around and hurried away into a small passage between the entrance portal and the exterior wall of the arcade we were standing beneath.

"A certain English gentleman is waiting for you in the lounge, Sir," the one twin left stated in a quiet, composed voice. "He said he had an appointment with you about an hour ago. He is rather disgruntled." His thin black eyebrow twitched.

Did I just imagine things or was it really possible that the stony, permanent smile of my strange companion suddenly had slipped a bit? Just for a few seconds it was replaced by an expression I instantly recognized. It made my flesh creep since I knew this expression all too well. It was more or less the same expression he had had when he… yes, when he had tried to kill me.

Just how stupid are you Lau?, the little voice in my head instantaneously started to scold me again. Throw all caution to the wind on the prospect of some food? Yes, very far-sighted, have to give you that!

Involuntarily I shuddered, I suddenly felt cold when an icy shiver ran down my spine even though it was still a very hot day, even in the shade of the building.

I look a second look at my encounter from the corner of my eye, trying my best not to appear afraid.

The little smile had found its way back onto his sharp features like it had never disappeared in the first place. His finger was curving around his beard again.

"Yes… I was indeed held up by a little _chat_…"

The last word made my knees feel like they wanted to give in.

"Anyway."

The silk of his wide sleeves ruffled when he put his hand within them together and turned on his heels, facing me with a stern expression.

"I'm afraid I'll have to take care of some business first before we can continue our splendid conversation from before," he simply stated, causing me to wince by the word "splendid". When blackmailing people ranged under the lable "good conversation" I simply did not want to know what he considered a particularly bad one.

"I'll keep it short, please wait here in the yard for me, will you?" he added more casually when he was already walking towards one massive door under the arcades, leaving me behind with a more than strange feeling in my stomach.

"Oh and Xao?" he did not turn around when he spoke to him. "Would you bring our guest some tea and some Scotch and tobacco into the lounge."

Orders. No questions. Orders.

He closed the door behind him without making a sound. All I could hear before it clicked shut was "Mr. Hollingsworth, I'm awfully sorry I've kept you waiting but the traffic these days…"

The door was shut, silence followed. Only the slight dripping of water and the faint sound of the street's noised outside the thick walls of the mansion reached my ears. The slight movement behind my back told me that Xao had presumably disappeared through the same alley his twin like college had before, in order to fulfil his master's desires.

Slowly I walked towards a little stone bench near the pond with faltering steps. I still had no idea how I got myself into this so surreal situation. The moment I had woken up with rigid limbs and an aching back when a drop of water from the leaking ceiling had hid my nose seemed so far away as if it had been years ago. Just a few hours ago I was sitting on a pile of cargo, surrounded by loud noises and a sickening smell and now… I was sitting here in this house… no, not a house, in the mansion of the man who wanted to kill me with his bare hands… patiently waiting for tea. No, it simply couldn't be true. I was sure I would wake up every second, lying there on the blank floor of the old house again, huddled up to a bunch under an old, smelly blanket.

"I hope Jasmine is to your liking."

The soft voice of Xao right next to me gave me a start. With a faint smile he put the small tray with a steaming cup of tea and two biscuits on the bench next to me, stoically ignoring my embarassment.

"Of course," I mumbled - what else could I possibly say? He could have also asked me if I would mind riding to town on the back of a dragon because unfortunately the rickshaw was broken… how the hell was I supposed to know how Jasmine- tea tastes like?

Once again a deep bow before Xao vanished as quickly as he had appeared. Of course servants were supposed to work silently but he surely had taken it to a completely new level. He was more like an apparition... like a…

Of course!

Maybe I was not dreaming but … did I somehow manage to stumble into the world of ghosts?

The bench under my bottom felt very solid indeed but… with trembling fingers I reached out for the hot cup filled with a yellowish content. They always said that one could not eat or drink something in the spirit world… so…

Carefully I took a small sip, eager not to burn my tongue. If I would taste nothing that would mean all this was nothing but the prank of the spirits.

I got bitterly disappointed.

A strong flavour instantaneously filled my mouth. It did not taste bad. Strange, but not bad.

I sighed deeply. No, the tea was real. Like everything else around me it was as real as it could possibly be.

The shingles on the ground, the solid bench I was sitting upon, the slowly swaying branches of the cedars, the carps in the pond and the… the blue shadow over there…?

A flash of blue suddenly tugged at the very edge of my field of vision, this little spot of colour somehow seemed way too bright and completely out of place. Moving my head so quickly that my neck hurt I turned my gaze towards the blue glimmering and my lungs suddenly forgot to breathe. .

A girl.

A little girl in a deep, navy blue Quipao was standing only a few metres away from me. Obviously she did not realize I was in the garden too when she held her pale face into the warming sun, eyes tightly closed. Her dark black hair was tied up in a complicated appearing pinned-up hairstyle, some golden tresses where hanging from one of her hair slides, glistening in the sunlight.

"Liang?" I whispered tonelessly. I wanted to stand up, yell and run to her and suddenly the spell was broken. With a loud clatter and bang my leg knocked the ceramic cup from the bench which broke into tiny little pieces when it hit the ground, spilling all its content over the shingles.

The closed eyes snapped open in utter surprised before her head turned towards me in a mixture of shock and perplexity.

My movements froze like I had been petrified. I wasn't even able to move a single muscle while under the eagle eyed supervision of this girl.

No, this wasn't Liang. How could it be Liang? Liang was dead… and this wasn't the world of ghosts and spirits.

Of course it wasn't her. On a closer look the girl just barely resembled her… but one aspect in particular tightened up my stomach it hurt:

A pair of large eyes mercilessly stared at me. The dismissive look. The deep colour of molten gold like a captured sunset made me feel even less comfortable than I had already felt before.

Without saying a word she turned a little more towards me, so that the embroidered ornaments of her dress reflected the rays of sunlight.

She kept silent but even without a single tone the difference between her and me was just too great not to realize it - she was eyeing me like I was some kind of nasty insect.

In this surrounding it was definitely me who was completely out of place... who didn't belong in here and that was exactly what her silent musing seemed to shout out loud.

I tried to steady myself, forced myself to smile but it didn't reach her. Throwing one last disdainful glance towards my direction she just turned on her heels. The expensive Quipao swayed slightly in the wind before she headed towards a little side door under the left arcade with quick steps.

My eyes were still attached to the spot she had stood before when I could hear a slight coughing behind me.

With a deep bow one of servants – I wasn't sure if it was Xao again or his twin - greeted me again and simultaneously pointed towards the door my host had been gone through before.

"Tea is served in the lounge, young master. Please follow me this way."

My legs fulfilled movements against my will and as if they weren't part of my body anymore. Like a puppet on a string I smiled and walked towards the wooden door.

The words "Young Master" echoed in my ears like a scornful infinite loop when it opened. The contemptuous look out of golden eyes still engraved in my memory.

* * *

><p><em>I hope you had fun reading the newest chapter and see you soon ^^<em>


	7. Teatime

_Hello there and long time no see^^_

_ I'm sorry for the little delay but as you can see the new chapter is ready and it is like I imagined it to be. And it became a rather long one so I hope it repays you a little for the wait. _

_By the way thanks for the nice comments and favorites so far - and stay tuned for the next chapters. Since I have freetime from university right now I have decisively more time to write and get this story going.  
><em>

_Well then there is nothing left to say but have fun reading and feel free to review ^.^_

_Regards, Eisteuel  
><em>

* * *

><p><em><strong>Chapter VI<strong>_

_**Teatime  
><strong>_

* * *

><p>The air was filled with the sweet, sticky smell of tobacco and something else I could not clearly put my finger on at first. But after a few deep sniffs I almost instantaneously identified it as Opium. I would recognize this cheap, sweet stench that had succeeded pervading every single little corner of the docks everywhere…<p>

The heavy doors behind my back were closed as soon as I had entered the wide room with the shiny mahogany furniture and wainscoting on the walls. The room was rather dimly lit and due to the missing light and the dark wood everywhere it oozed an awkward atmosphere. Opaque and almost gloomy, shrouded in thick layers of silvery smoke. All of the windows were covered with shutters, locking out even the slightest ray of light which might have found its way into the murkiness. I really did not want to know what kind of businessmen gathered in such a room without real light and without even a long table to sit at. And I really didn't want to know which kind of businesses they pursued in the dark either. In fact the only source of light were two great Chinese lanterns dangling from the wooden ceiling, radiating a pale, slightly bleared light onto the relaxed features of my host who was half lying, half sitting on a crimson-red divan at the end of the room, absentmindedly puffing silvery-grey smoke rings into the already stuffy air. I already felt one of my heads coming up and he was worsening it even more...

Not for the first time it came to my mind that this obviously very powerful man was a very strange man indeed. He could switch from dangerous and sincere to playful and cheery within split seconds. But what amazed me the most was that he appeared like he did not even care in the slightest for the stunningly beautiful woman with the undone Quipao who was sitting on top of his lap, affectionately ruffling his hair.

"There you are, my dear boy", his dark voice echoed through the room when he lifted his head just barely enough to take a tired glance at me. With a short movement of his hand he shooed the woman away, who immediately slipped gracefully from his lap as if she did this every day. Adjusting her dark red Quipao with some short, well-versed movements, her bare feet hushed over the floor with a tripling sound before she vanished with a short giggle through an almost invisible, very well hidden door which had been embedded into the wainscoting.

A deep sigh could be heard when he straightened himself on the divan.

"Women these days", he muttered more to himself but to me when he got onto his feet, meanwhile taking another deep drag at his pipe. "You've been out only for a few hours and they behave like you were on a decades-long crusade. My, my…"

"Was that woman your wife?" I asked carefully, still silently admiring the vanished beauty, but not for long…

"_Wife_?" he looked like he was about to choke on the smoke in his lungs before he burst out into gales of laughter, almost spilling the embers in his pipe over his expensive robes due to the not ceasing snorts of laugher.

"Boy… oh _dear boy_", he finally managed to articulate himself, wiping away a few tears running down his reddened cheeks and I suddenly felt very, _very_ stupid. It was exactly the same feeling that had afflicted me when that little girl in the courtyard had looked at me like I was an elephant in a store selling bone china. Once again it had been rubbed into my face that I was entirely misplaced here.

"No, no boy, that wasn't my wife", he finally was able to speak in coherent sentences again. Putting his still smouldering pipe into his lap he turned his attention towards me again:

"My wife died ten years ago", he simply stated after he had managed to completely compose himself. "And I fathomed that more women mean more fun. A fact you'll probably be able to fully realize when you are a little older. Now take a seat, Lau", he made a wide gesture, the cloth of his sleeve was swaying in the air. Swallowing hard I wordlessly did what he told me to, I knew all too well that this wasn't an offer. It was an order. Nothing else. And although he still was as friendly as before I also knew very well that this behaviour could change _very_ fast. The last thing I should do was letting my guard down. One attempted murder a day was more than enough and one should let sleeping dogs lie.

"Thank you", I murmured almost inaudibly when I got onto my haunches before I sat down on one very soft and surprisingly comfortable cushion, lying on the floor in front of the little table he had advised me to.

After a few short steps he had also arrived at the table and settled himself on one of the cushions himself.

"By the way, how old are you, Lau?" he asked casually, crossing his overly long, thin fingers in front of his face while eyeing me with blatant interest.

"15 or 16", I answered truthfully and tried my best to avoid that damn inquisitional gaze that seemed to follow even the faintest of my movements like it had been glued to my body.

"15 or 16", my host repeated lowly when he started to twirl the left end of his thin black moustache between his thumb and index finger. "And you neither can read nor write? Numbers are probably difficult too?"

"I can count to twenty", suddenly I felt the strange desire to defend myself – I wasn't _that _uneducated.

"Still a shame for someone who shares the same name with the great philosopher Zhuangzhi. But it is a start, that's right. I'm a great admirer of his works. We really have to teach you how to write so you can read his poems."

I did not answer and I highly doubted that he really expected one. Therefore, I simply nodded and thereby swore to myself that I would keep this up for the rest of this strange meeting. There was no point in interjecting or contradicting him but when the day was over and he would shoo me out of his house like some mangy dog I would at least have some of my pride left. At least a little more as if I would agree to everything he said and start rejoicing over something that we both knew would never happen.

"Where are you from?"

The strange interrogation continued.

"From the docks", I retorted, rather taken aback. Like hell, he knew where I came from, he had met me down there. And there was that little smile again that made the ends of this beard twitch.

"No, no dear. I don't mean that. You are not from the docks, you were simply in the unlucky position to work there."

Long fingers grasped for his pipe he had put on the floor. After a short approving look he realized it was still gleaming. Taking a deep drag at his little, dragon-shaped pipe he inhaled the smoke deeply before he release it in thin plumes of silver. "I mean where were you born, boy? I can hear you are not from Shanghai by the way you speak. No little brat from Shanghai's gutter would speak that way."

"I-"

Thank god a little knock saved me from answering that question and I could feel a heavy weight falling from my heart.

"Ah there comes the tea!"

Crossing his arms lazily behind his head he leaned back a little while he looked anxiously at the door the woman had used to vanish like a shadow. It silently opened as if by magic and a little foot entered the polished parquet flooring. I was already expecting one of the two twin-like servants but was proven terribly wrong when the seam of a dark blue Quipao was lifted a little and a girl entered the room.

_Her!_

Just the same stare as before, the same condescending look in her eyes which still looked so much like the ones that had closed for the last time about ten years ago.

My throat felt like some snake was wrapping itself around it tight and tighter with every single step the girl came closer to the table. Wordlessly she balanced a tray with a steaming teapot, cups and biscuits on her arms before she carefully put it onto the floor next to the table. One could feel her desire to simply ignore my presence since she took her time to carefully fill the tea into the very, _very_ expensive looking bone china cup of my host before she did the same with mine. _Way_ less carefully. With a sloppy motion the swayed the pot over the table, the tea barely stayed in the tiny cup she silently put onto my side of the table. I barely dared to look at the fragile little thing in front of me and I dreaded holding it. With a determined _clack _she put she teapot on the table as well and was about to take her leave as wordlessly as she had come.

"Wait dear, wait!" my companion said in a musing voice while he beckoned her over with his wide sleeve, only missing his tea cut by a hair's breadth in the process.

"Sit down and have some tea with us dear, as you can see we have a young guest today."

One could almost feel her unwillingness to do what she had been told and her burning desire to leave the room as soon as possible. With faltering steps she returned and sat down reluctantly next to my entertainer, carefully adjusting her dress under her knees.

"This is Zhuang Lau. I just made his acquaintance this morning and we got so carried away with our little chat that we decided to continue it in a little more private setting."

Something on his so casually sounding depiction of the actual events made my flesh crawl again. Nonetheless, I forced myself to smile what I called my most winning smile while I fulfilled a deep bow to her. "It's a pleasure."

"My daughter", he now introduced her in return while he patted her head with his hand. She kept a straight face although her father had just ruined her extremely complicated hairdo with his affectionate action. Several strands of her long black hair had come loose. Stoically ignoring the fact she simply hinted a short nod at me.

"We already met before… Just a few moments ago when I was waiting for you in the courtyard", it just blundered out of my mouth before I could stop the words from spilling. In moments like this I wished to bite my tongue. The golden eyes narrowed to nothing but two very thin slots that were staring at me like I was some kind of nasty insect she wanted to crush under her feet.

"Oh really?" he seemed genuinely surprised. "And I thought I had told you not to go outside when I have clients on the premises, Ran Mao."

Ran Mao it was. I bit back a smile when I heard her name for the first time but almost instantaneously put on a solemn face again when she was glaring daggers at me like she was really intending to kill me with her gaze.

"I thought they were already gone. I did not know you were _that_ late", a very high yet steady voice replied in a cold and composed manner while she was still glaring at me like a vengeance goddess and suddenly I felt extremely guilty, to say the least. It was me who had accidentially revealed our meeting in the yard to her father and she most decisively held me responsible for that.

Her father simply chuckled.

"That's true dear, we really lost track of time. But I don't want to see you outside when I've clients in here. _Are we clear_?"

A vague nod was the only sign that she had listened to him in the first place. With mechanic movements the grasped for the teapot on the table and refilled her father's cup straightfaced.

"Well, were did we stop?" my encounter asked more to himself than it was addressed to me while he carefully took a little sip.

"Actually I have a question", I finally dared to ask what was lying on my heart for what seemed like ages.

"You know my name and I know the name of you daughter now but… who are you?"

The ends of the neatly trimmed beard twitched, brows narrowed and the already very dark eyes suddenly appeared like charcoal.

Something was wrong… suddenly the strange feeling got ahold on me that something was terribly, _terribly _wrong here. The pupils of the girl which looked so much like the ones of Liang dilated in a way that they were nothing more but two large, black pools without any remaining golden iris at all.

With stiff movements she put down the teapot she was still holding in her hands without noticing the spots of tea she had spilled onto the polished table surface. Her eyes were attached to my host whose features were adorned with that wry smile he was almost always displaying.

"Oh my…" he put his cup next to the leaking teapot and looked straight into my face.

"Did I really entirely forget to introduce myself?" he sounded almost rueful but I highly doubted that he had really forgotten about it. Sure as death he did not forget it, he rather had swept it under the table on full purpose. Having this in mind the strange feeling that this whole situation became rather strange did not vanish at all, on the contrary it only made my stomach violently tensing up.

"What a shame indeed."

The black eyes of him which almost looked like the little beads I had scattered onto the ship stared at me without even the slightest movement of their lids until he finally continued with an implied bow:

"The name is Yuesheng Du. At your service."

It hit me like a ton of bricks.

The eyes of the girl had regained their golden colour and were staring at me while her father kept on his omnipresent, unreadable smiling when he carefully took another sip from his steaming cup. Every single of his movements suddenly appeared completely different to me like seconds before. I didn't know how to explain this strange feeling but I really thought that there had to be something especially dangerous to the leader of the most notorious and most dangerous gang in all of Shanghai.

_The Quibang_, or how the damn Englishmen called them: _The Green Gang_.

* * *

><p><em>For those of you who are a little interested in history: Yuesheng Du actually was the leader of the Quibang in Shanghai and my character relies to great lenghts on his historical model. His life does of course not entirely fit with the dates and events I'm using here but see it as artistic freedom ;)<br>_

_Ah well and dear Ran Mao had her real first appearance :D  
><em>

_ See you with the next chapter_


	8. The Rulers of Shanghai

_I have to say I'm really rather quick at writing right now, I have to give me that.^^ Well, without any further ado the new chapter._

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter VII<strong>

**The Rulers of Shanghai**

* * *

><p>"Let me tell you the story of the town Shanghai. It is not a very nice or comfortable one but it should be told nonetheless, because even unpleasant stories should be heard… maybe even more so than the happy and pleasing ones. So listen carefully:<p>

Wherever is influence, there is power. Wherever is power, there is money. And wherever is money, there is betrayal and corruption. That's the way it is and how it always has been. Unsurprisingly the underworld of Shanghai, which shrouds itself into the shadowy mist of the river Yangtze and the sweet blue smoke of the countless opium dens, is no exception. On the contrary: invisible hands are holding the strings behind the blood-red curtain, performing a dangerous play to the silenced audience. Unseen by the eyes of the English invaders, the city of Shanghai is secretly governed behind the scenes. Who's in charge is not the government. Not the Empress. Not the East India Trading Company.

The Triads are the real rulers of the den called Shanghai and opium is the fuel that keeps their little empire running. Actually there are so many Triads around that one could barely name all of them but the two which hold the greatest sway over the city are called the Red Gang and the Green Gang. Unluckily they are not only the most influential ones but also the ones which despise and fight each other the most since the one carries on commerce with the greatest English trading company for opium whilst the other exports opium in large amounts back to where it came from in the first place: England. It's a shame they work in such contradictory directions, fighting over power and influence by using the only currency that's really of value in this city.

And now tell me boy, what do you think? How do you devastate an empire and pulverize over 3000 years of history with almost no armed force?", he let out a small, thin puff of smoke, his dark eyes glimmered, reflected faintly the red gleam of the embers in his pipe when his gaze pierced through me.

"The answer is rather simple", he continued before I could even think about any possibly answer. "By flooding the country with drugs and turn millions of people into addicts."

Yuesheng Du let out a little sound that vaguely resembled a laugh but it was more like a jaundiced cackle when his hands made a sweeping gesture over the table, the fingers of his left hand still holding the clay pipe shaped like a dragon. "It worked out pretty fine in our country, don't you think?"

I nodded slowly – oh yes and_ how_ it worked out in our country. Within split seconds I saw them in front of my inner eye: The murky, run down opium-dens down at the docks that poisoned the air with their disgustingly sweet, emetic stench that seeped through every little alley, into every corner, inside every person down there. The entire docks where high on drugs. Vividly the images of the haggard men that lingered in the sideways near the opium-dens, with these dull looks in their empty eyes, not capable of focusing anything around them anymore, flooded back into my mind.

"And maybe", from far, far away the dark, raspy voice of Yuesheng Du found its way into my mind again. I blinked a few time to focus myself again, shooing away the images of half-dead, garbled people wearing nothing but rags covered in filth, craving for the next trip to wonderland.

"You'll understand now why we carry on commerce with the Englishmen. The Green Gang is fighting back."

The satisfied chuckle that followed these words gave me a start. It wasn't a happy chuckle.

It sounded vicious.

"We give them a taste of their own medicine."

Silence. Ran Mao was staring at her tightly entwined fingers lying in her lap. Did she feel so uncomfortable?

"Oh, well, well…", her father finally clapped his hands, thereby spilling embers all over the table. He did not seem to bother when he put the pipe away, turned towards his mute daughter and continued airily: "Looks like I got a little carried away, you must simply be bored to death, dear. So Ran Mao, would you please be so kind and call for Xao and Xing to serve dinner? I think I'd fancy a little snack now."

She immedeately got onto her feet without making even the faintest sound – she probably was used to appear and disappear like a shadow, without leaving any hint of her presence. Without looking at her father nor me again she vanished through the little door again and I suddenly remembered the by now probably ice-cold tea in front of me. Hectically I grasped for my cup and took a sip. Least of all I wanted to appear ungrateful. I emptied my cup in two large gulps. It was a different tasted than the one I had tasted in the garden. Sweeter, way less strong, a flavour I might actually get a liking on. Reaching for one of the biscuits on the tray I observed how my host made himself a little more comfortable onto the silky cushions - stretching his legs, taking a short sip of tea himself.

"Now tell me, Lau", he mumbled inside of his cup. "Why do _you _hate the English so much?"

I almost choked on the piece of almond-biscuit in my mouth. Completely taken off guard by this unexpected question I couldn't do much but bat my eyelashes in sheer surprise.

"Now?" he inquired further, lowering his cup.

"They…", I took a deep breath to steady myself. "They killed my little sister… They killed my parents, my sister and burned my whole village to the ground until there was nothing left of it but smouldering ashes."

I hated it. I hated to recall these painful memories of this fateful day in late summer that had changed my life forever. A cold shudder ran down my spine when I fought the upcoming memories of a torn apart orange Qipao and a field of scarlet poppies dyed in black blood. My counterfeit just nodded vaguely – did he even listen to me?

"Where was that village?" was the only reply I received after what appeared like hours of silence, while I bit back something that felt dangerously close to tears.

"Palinkao", my lips formed the answer without me realizing it.

"I see… and you came to Shanghai afterwards?"

"Not right afterwards but about five years ago, I guess."

Sometime ago I had just stopped counting the months in the filthy alleys and sideways filled with rats. What was the point of keeping track of bad times anyway?

Nothing but a short nod again when he finally put his emptied cup onto the table with a loud, distinguishable clang.

"Now let's talk business, Lau."

His overly long, bony fingers were grasping for the pipe he had put onto the floor before. Taking several short, heavy drags the few remaining embers glimmered again. He appeared rather satisfied.

"The reason why I invited you here in the first place is quickly told – I'd like to make you an offer. Would you like to– by any change - stay here for a while in order to learn how to read and to write?"

"Are you completely out of your-"

"Hush, hush, dear. No needs for temper-tantrums", he cut me off with a harsh movement of his sleeve, as if he wanted to swipe away an annoying fly. His thin brows narrowed and I regretted my flippant tongue right away.

"It's an offer. Nothing else. There are no terms, no requirements, it's completely unconditional. Simply stay here as long as you wish, as long as you are willing to learn."

"You're joking. You simply must be joking!"

Too late I realized I was almost yelling. It earned me a dismissive look out of narrowed eyes.

"Oh I promise you boy, I am _not _joking. I'm never joking when it comes down to business."

"But _why_?" I simply couldn't help but raise my voice. This… this whole situation seemed so outright wrong and awry I was sure I was bound to wake up any second on the cold floor of a run-down building. Everything was wrong. Me inside of this huge mansion was wrong, me drinking tea from tiny cups was wrong, servants talking to me like I wasn't the waif I was was wrong and above all… the leader of the notorious Green Gang seriously offering me to stay at his home and getting educated was so wrong one couldn't even put it into words anymore.

"Because you are an interesting boy, Zhuang Lau. You amuse me", the slight guttural snicker in his voice made me flinch. "You're smart and it would be a waste to let your wit rot and go to waste down there in the depths of the docks. Your idea with the teabags was simply brilliant, have to give you that."

I would never have guessed that his dark charcoal eyes could glimmer in such a way. They were sparkling when he was speaking.

"By the way, what happened to-"

"The cargo you scattered so carelessly over the floor?" he continued my sentence in a very nonchalant way. "Be assured it has been taken care of by now."

That wicked crypitcal grin again and I fully understood. Hell knew, half of the docklands were probably working for this man…

"But in hindsight I have to admit it wasn't a particularly bad thing that you damaged my precious goods. After our little talk I came to the conclusion that my first estimation of you had been more than affirmed. We have more in common than you think."

"I highly doubt that", I retorted quick like a shot, completely taken aback and confused by his words. Estimation? Things in common? We were worlds apart! What on earth could _he_ and _I _possibly have in common except for our hatred and despise for the English, which we shared with roughly half of China?

"You said you lost your family in the second Opium war", he paused for a second when he exhaled the smoke and appeared for this short amount of time completely lost in thoughts. He gazed in abstraction at the squiggly silver lines which formed grotesque figures above our heads before he finally continued as if he had suddenly remembered that he wasn't alone in the room:

"Well, I lost mine in the first. Believe me I know damn well how that feels like."

Again a deep drag at the pipe and an absent-minded look how the smoke swirled up and down.

"As I've already said before, we have more in common than you think. And now listen, boy… ", he hissed in a dangerously low tone, puffing out smoke between nearly closed lips, making him almost look like an angry dragon. It made my heart beat faster.

"This is an one-off offer. Take it or leave it, but this opportunity will never return. If you decide to take your leave now, feel free to return to the gutter you came from in the first place and perish there together with the rats. Don't even think about coming back tomorrow, saying you changed your mind."

I could almost feel the little gears behind my forehead turning fast and faster while his dark, colourless gaze pinned me at the wall behind me, requiring an answer.

"I accept", the sound of my own voice embarrassed me, even more when I could see how the smile onto Yuesheng's features widened. My voice was suddenly croaky and breathy, as if my throat had been turned into abrasive paper.

"Well, that's settled then. Let's get to the dining room. Dinner should be ready by now", he suddenly beamed at me when he got onto his feet, all tension and constraint instantaneously blown off. I on the other hand felt like I had been petrified by an evil spirit. I could not even move a single muscle. Smoothing down the silk of his robes he was heading for the great door at the end of the room which had been opened for me for what appeared like years ago. "Oh and Lau…"

He was already halfway through the door – which had once again opened itself as if by magic – when he stopped abruptly. It seemed like he had suddenly remembered something, when he mused for a second before he turned around one last time.

"This is nothing but a well meant advice, but…", the gaze that seemed to capture even the faintest heartbeat eyed me from head to toe. "Hide your eyes when you deal with the Englishmen. They tell too many dark tales."

* * *

><p><em>Uff... finally, finally, finally this part of the story is over... it took waaay longer than I expected it to be in the first place when I planned this part... but well, good things take some time^^ <em>

_Dear Lau has a new home and the "real" story can begin now. I hope you stay tuned for the next chapter and liked the story so far._

_Special greetings to Phantom Ou - thank you for you great, encouraging comments. :)_

_Regards, Eisteufel_


	9. Blue Cat has no Sense of Humour

_**Chapter VIII**_

_**Blue Cat has no Sense of Humour**_

* * *

><p>"But he didn't know if he was Zhuangzi who had dreamt he was a butterfly, or a butterfly dreaming he was Zhuangzi."<p>

Snapping the book shut she concluded her lecture with a low, languid sigh. Closing her eyes she turned her face towards the warming, already setting autumn sun. Radiating its light over the rooftop of the mansion it was pouring the courtyard into a warm, orange shade and glistened onto the surface of the little pond in its midst.

"Do you understand the meaning of this parable?" her composed voice asked into the silence of the afternoon, her eyes still closed tightly as if she were fast asleep.

Way too fascinated by her cold beauty which I could admire now completely undisturbed, since she had closed her eagle eyes, I entirely forgot to answer but it immediately fired back when her eyes snapped open again and glared daggers at me. No, she wasn't the most patient of teachers. In fact she was _very_ easily annoyed.

Putting the book which was still lying in her lap aside she reached for her cup of tea standing right next to her on the stony bench.

"Did you understand it?" she repeated her question in an icy tone of voice while mercilessly glancing at me.

I silently nodded while swallowing a large gulp of tea to buy me some more time to frame an answer.

It had been almost one month now since I had agreed to stay at the house of Yuesheng Du, the great leader of the Quibang. And in that short amount of time many, _many_ things had changed. Actually they had changed so fast and drastically that I still came to terms with them and this strange new world evolving around me with every further day I stayed at this impressive mansion.

I had been given new clothes that could actually be called clothes and not rags and which were worth several months of work down at the docks. My hair had been cut and I slowly was getting used to be around this place and its inhabitants. I was glad I didn't feel like an alien outcast anymore, although, I still felt rather silly when the twin-like servants Xao and Xing asked me about my wishes and stubbornly stuck to calling me that ridiculous name:_ young master_. But nonetheless… even though I was wearing silken robes, even though I was learning manners and writing skills, the thought that I might actually ask one of them a favour or give them an order was still completely out of the question.

Because one thing hadn't changed at all.

While Ran-Mao was reading to me, sitting on the tiny bench near the little pond with the golden carps drawing circles, I was sitting cross-legged on the neatly trimmed lawn right at her feet - meekly looking up to her in silent admiration. But the disdainful look she had given me when we had met for the first time at this very place hadn't vanished at all. Not in the slightest.

Her aversion was so tangible, so omnipresent one could almost grasp it with bare hands and I still had no idea why she still rejected me in such a blunt, overly obvious manner when at least my appearance had adapted to this new place by now. Yet she still looked down at me like I was nothing but a rat - a trained rat at best but a rat, nonetheless.

She made it more than clear that she did not like the fact that her father had chosen her to be my teacher at all. Although, Yuesheng was teaching me a lot of things when it came to mathematics and overall manners, most of the time it was Ran-Mao who did her best – at least I assumed it was her best – to teach me how to read and write. And although, in my opinion I wasn't such a hopeless student, she never seemed to be satisfied with my accomplishments at all. It was simply impossible for me to meet her expectations.

With careful little sips she drank her tea, eyeing me over the lip of the tiny cup, still waiting for an answer.

"Yes... I... I think..." why the hell was I always on the edge of stuttering when I was talking to her?

"I think... I understand the story," I hastily replied her silent inquiry although I had actually no clue at all.

Why was this philosopher who was sharing a name with me thinking about such impossible and unimportant things like being a butterfly anyway? It simply did not make sense to me and furthermore, it was so completely and entirely meaningless. There were more important problems to be solved, for example where homeless children should stay the night, where to get something to eat, how to survive without a single yuan in your pockets, how to get rid of these hideous English bastards. These were problems philosophers should brood about and not some stupid dreams about butterflies.

"There you are my dear children," the dark voice of Yuesheng suddenly echoing over the courtyard brought me back from my silent cursing. Stepping out of the shadow which was provided by the arcades into the dazzling sun, he was shielding his eyes with his wide, dark red sleeve when he came closer, carefully balancing a tray of calligraphy utensils in his left hand.

"Does our little pupil make progress?" he asked when he put the tray next to Ran-Mao onto the bench. His daughter was nodding slightly but her facial expression said otherwise. Her pale, stoic face made her look more than ever like an expensive china doll in a very bad mood. Her porcelain skin that wasn't exposed to sun very often was flawless, except for the deep corrugation running across her forehead now which was framed by two long, golden tresses in the shape of cherry blossoms, dangling from the odangos she was wearing today. Her eyes were staring at me like a tiger at his prey, glimmering in a deep golden hue due to the now quickly setting sun.

"We are working on the butterfly parable right now," she stated calmly, her fingers clenching around the cup she was still holding between her small-boned hands. Her father instantaneously split into a broad smile.

"Very good, my dear. Splendid to hear that. How do you like it, Lau?"

He beamed at me when he straightened himself and hid his arms within his sleeves like he always did. I had realized weeks ago that it was only one of his strange habits. Just like the constant smile he was always and everywhere displaying.

I quickly did my best to put on an air of interest and smiled as convincingly as my aching facial muscles allowed.

"It is very interesting indeed," I lied and frantically hoped he wouldn't see right through me. "Although... although I still have a lot of questions," I added quickly when the line on Ran-Mao face got a little deeper in silent disapproval.

Her father on the other hand seemed perfectly satisfied. Chuckling lowly he turned towards his brooding daughter.

"Keep up the good work."

He gently patted her shoulder. She kept looking straight forward and right through me but for a split second I imagined her flinching under his touch.

"Take good care of him and be a good older sister," he said mildly when he turned around, heading towards the arcades again.

He left us in the almost-silence of an almost ended day. A few birds where still twittering here and there up in the trees, the dull noise of the traffic outside of the mansion's walls slowly died down, the water was gurgling lowly. It could have been such a very relaxing, soothing atmosphere... if Ran-Mao hadn't been sitting there as stiff as a china doll, still clenching her fingers around the emptied cup as if she wanted to break it to pieces with her bare hands.

Why on earth was she always so serious and earnest? How was it even possible that she never smiled, especially when her own father was literally smiling all day long? I never saw her smile just once in the entire time of my stay.

_Maybe a joke might cheer her up a little... _I thought but hesitated immediately. I had never known good jokes... at least no good jokes one could tell a young, spirited lady without making her blush like a peony.

_Think, Lau. Think... make something up..._

"I always thought that all cats were grey by night," I started warily. I smiled but it didn't reach her. She just blinkered at me, frowned while raising both of her eyebrows in surprised disbelief. I could feel my heart sink and my courage fade.

_You've started it, now go through with it!_ the little voice inside of my head teased and I harrumphed loudly to clear my sandpaper-dry throat.

"But... but I think it is not true," I continued in a tone that was supposed to sound airily but I doubted it actually fulfilled its purpose. In my ears it sounded rather pitiable. "Here sits a blue cat and it is almost night.* So I suppose all cats have to be blue at night. Right?"

I smiled although I knew pretty well the joke wasn't a particularly good one.

Obviously Ran-Mao thought just the same.

"You are an idiot," she stated plainly after a few seconds of tensed silence. Shaking her head she got up onto her feet. The shingles were clattering under her silk slippers when she quickly smoothed down her dress with a few versed movements while she was heading for the mansion.

"No... no. Don't run away again. I simply wanted to see you smile once in a while..." I tried to explain myself. "You... you surely look even more adorable when you smile."

She simply kept shaking her head when she headed for the arcades. Unimpressed, pretending that I wasn't even there.

"Come on, smile," I plead while walking right behind her. She was increasing her pace, I was almost running to keep up with her quick steps.

"Don't be so uptight all the time. Just smile... just a little," I teased her while reaching out my arm and squeezed one of her cat-ear like odangos between my fingers.

"_Stop this nonsense already!_"

Turning on her heels so fast that her long black braids brushed against my cheeks she turned around, glaring at me with an expression on her face I had never seen before: there actually _was_ an expression on her always so stoic face. The large golden eyes were narrowed until there was nothing left of them but two small slits, glowing like they were boiling iron. The thin, black brows knitted, the line running across her forehead was getting deep and deeper when she stared back at me.

"I know perfectly well what you're trying to do here but believe me, I'm not as stupid as my father thinks I am," she hissed dangerously low through tightly gritted teeth. Her whole body had stiffened, her always so perfect composure was crumbling, out of my eyes corner I could see her fists trembling.

"No... I... I don't..." I tried my best to explain to her that I had no idea what she was talking about but not a single word came out of my mouth. I wanted to apologize for making her angry and for making a joke about her name and for squeezing her hairdo but every word seemed to slip right through my fingers. Completely taken aback I tried to approach her. Carefully I reached out my arm in order to calm her down and to gently touch her shoulder but with a sudden harsh movement she just pushed me away as if it was nothing.

I stumbled backwards, desperately fighting to keep my balance but I failed miserably. Like a stone I fell hard onto the ground, the sharp little shingles were digging into the flesh of my lower arm. The expensive cloth of my Thangzuan tore apart and I could feel warm, sticky blood running down my elbow where the thin skin had been grazed. Where was this frail appearing girl hiding such an amount of strength?

Gritting my teeth to bit back a gasp and ignore the searing pain while holding my badly aching elbow I could do nothing but look up to her when she started to walk towards me at a very slow pace, crossing her arms in front of her small chest defensively.

The same blank expression again, like nothing had happened. The same stoic look as ever, she did not even bat an eyelash.

"Now listen to me carefully,_ Lau,"_ she snarled when she positioned herself right above me and her voice suddenly sounded way deeper than her usual speaking voice. The way she spit out my name made me wince, she made it sound like it was the worst possible insult one could come up for a person.

"I will say this only once so you better listen. Just because I allegedly don't suffice as a successor in the eyes of my father it does not make _you _my brother, nor do I have to recognize you as such. You are _not _my brother and you never will be. Do you understand that?" she almost yelled when she suddenly bent down to grasp for my robe, almost dragging me onto my feet in the process. I could feel her hot breath onto my sweaty face when her lips came dangerously close to mine before she stopped abruptly and I saw for the very first time an expression onto her face that I had longed for so long but right now it appeared just terribly distorted and wrong.

She was smiling.

"So don't you dare touch me ever again!" she whispered, her words brushed against my lips when she suddenly let go off the collar and tossed me aside so that I landed for the second time onto my already bleeding elbow.

She snickered lowly when she was heading for the dining room.

"I hope you like the smile, _Zhuang Lau._"

* * *

><p><em>* Most of you will probably know but for those who don't: Ran-Mao's name literally means Blue Cat in Chinese.<em>

_Oh and nasty Ran-Mao... nasty, nasty Ran-Mao. But I like her so. :) I always imaged that there is more behind this stoic face and behaviour. :)_

_Well, I hope you liked it too and see you soon. __Stay tuned. ^^_


	10. Dangerous Kitten

_**Chapter IX**_

_**Dangerous Kitten**_

* * *

><p>I could hear the gentle paces of silk slippers on polished parquet flooring and the faint rustling of cloth when arms were crossed in front of a chest. Reluctantly I lifted me aching head to take a short look at the direction the sounds had come from.<p>

"We've missed your presence at dinner."

A thin black eyebrow was raised in slight expectation when he took a deep breath of smoke from his smouldering pipe into his lungs, shrouding himself in a thick layer of dense, grey haze. The dark shadows of an already risen, pale moon and the dim, orange light of the Chinese lanterns under the arcades were drawing strange patterns onto the man's features. My body shuddered involuntarily – the unsteady light made him appear like a faceless ghost made of nothing but fog and smoke, leaning against one of the massive wooden pillars, eyeing my out of charcoal depths with vicious intentions. My body was stiff and rigid but not only my body, also my mind felt like it had been petrified. After Ran Mao's outburst I had been sitting on exactly the same spot where she had pushed me onto the ground - for heaven knows how long. I had lost completely track of time, all I could say was night had already fallen over the mansion and its inhabitants. My ice cold fingers were clinging around the aching limb, the once warm and sticky blood had long ago become dry and crumbly underneath my fingertips.

"What happened to your arm, Lau?" Yaosheng Du inquired when he crossed the courtyard with only a few long steps and bowed down in front of me to take a closer look at the soiled and torn apart silken robe whose rags were wrapping around the gash. I could _feel _how the steadily growing lump in my throat was suffocating me – and I simply couldn't stand that sympathetic expression on my benefactors face. The disdainful voice of his daughter was still echoing in my ears and lingering inside my head and he was pitying me?!

"Nothing," I lied hectically and turned away from his interrogating gaze, tried my best to force my numb feet to move under my rigid body in order to stand up. "I tripped and grazed my elbow, that's all," I added in the futile attempt to sound calm and composed but my voice came way too high pitched out of my mouth.

Silence. He didn't say a word, only a short disapproving look, nothing else. A wisp of smoke was blown into my face when he inspected the wound in a little more detail by getting down on his haunches. The warm, sweet smoke together with the searing pain made my head spin.

"Well, well, let's see, let's see…" he mumbled when he tore off the cloth from the wound at one go. Clinging to the very rest of self-control I gritted my teeth and bit back an anguished cry of pain when he started to twist my arm in the elbow joint until it made an audible creaking sound.

"Clumsy boy", he muttered when he finally let go off me and got onto his feet again. I could feel how hot tears were running down my burning cheeks and I frantically hoped he wouldn't see them. A vicious throbbing was creeping through my arm with steadily increasing intensity.

"Stupid, clumsy boy. It's not broken but I fear your joint got a little dislocated," he continued absentmindedly when his fingers were carefully controlling if the embers in his pipe were still glowing.

"It should be good by now," he added when he quickly looked up from his pipe but somehow I doubted his words. All I could feel right now was this searing pain which hadn't been _that _bad before and it only became worse instead of better.

"Get that wound treated by Xao," Yuesheng ordered in a low voice when he turned onto his heels, heading for the entrance under the arcades. He didn't bother to look back to me when he addressed me once again: "And after that you should get some rest, boy. A twisted arm does not hinder you in your studies of trigonometry tomorrow morning."

A mild snicker was the last I could hear before he shut the door to the lounge behind him and left me in perfect silence of the night.

_For heaven's sake Lau, get yourself together! _the well-known teasing voice behind my temples already stated scolding me again. Yes, I needed to get rid of that damn apathy.

Stoically ignoring the pulsating pain in my arm and the unpleasant prickling of my gone dead legs I get onto my wobbly feet and crossed the lawn in order to find Xao. I surely might have called for him but I didn't want to ring for his service at this hour, it simply did not seem right. He was probably already in his quarters, waiting for his master to go to bed so he could finish his daily tasks as well. Actually I had no idea where his quarters were located but I clearly remembered how he had disappeared like a shadow through a hole in the wall right next to the great entrance portal when I had come to the mansion for the first time.

The great lantern above my head was softly swaying in the wind when I reached the massive wooden doors which separated the world outside from the little cosmos inside these walls.

Quickly I opened the little door next to the great entrance portal and slid through the narrow opening. The passage was dark and very, _very_ narrow, I could hardly stand upright. Carefully I followed the windings and turning of the tunnel until my movement froze on the spot when I heard something in the darkness. A faint, peculiar sound in irregular intervals. Like metal hitting cobblestone. Listening carefully into the darkness I followed that strange sound which was consistently getting louder the longer I was following the passage to the servant's quarters. It felt like I was following this dark windowless tube for ages until finally a dim light glistened in the distance. Taking a deep breath of fresh air I left the passageway behind and found myself in a part of the mansion I had never been before. I was standing in some kind of little chamber with no other furnishings but a little desk and a chair. The warm, slightly blue light of the gas lamp hanging on the wall right above the desk was flickering in the wind. It surprised me to see that the little chamber was equipped with an access to a very little, _very_ shabby inner yard. Over three ramshackle steps one could reach the restricted area the servants were probably allowed to use during their leisure time. It was a joke in comparison to the great, inner courtyard of the mansion with its neatly trimmed lawn, the pearly white shingles and the sparkling carp pond. It was a wretched, little place surrounded by walls as high as trees… but some dark figure seemed to be perfectly satisfied with it.

Unconsciously I hid myself behind one of the pushed aside, dark-red folding doors, anxiously watching the yard and the swiftly moving shadow. Several times I blinkered until I finally understood what was happening. It looked like someone was training some kind of martial arts - here and there I could see the faint reflection of moonlight on quickly moving metal like a flash in the night since the moon had decided to show its pale face once again. Radiating dim rays through shattered shreds of thick clouds it was illuminating the obscure scene with a sickly bleared light, drawing glistering shadows onto a pale, doll-like face… and it hit me like a ton of bricks.

She was wearing a short-sleeved Tangzhuang while wielding two massive clubs through the air like it was nothing. Open mouthed I simply couldn't do anything else but stare at her, how her two long braids swayed through the midnight air when she turned on the spot, one weapon in each hand. She was obviously furious, judging by the way she was swinging those massive tools over her head again and again. This girl had nothing in common anymore with the well-behaved, beautiful but deadly stoic daughter of a triad leader.

It was more like she had turned into a yellow-eyed alley cat fighting to protect her kitten.

"Ran Mao", my hoarse voice whispered unwittingly but only seconds after my utterance I wanted nothing more but to bit my tongue.

Her movements stopped right this instance, her head snapped into my direction, the golden eyes widened in utter surprise when she slowly lowered the clubs. It heavily reminded me of our first meeting, only with the slight difference that she wasn't wielding deadly weapons at the time. The golden eyes started to look like the eyes of a demon, a vicious fiend.

Without prior warning she let one of her enormous clubs hit the ground with such vigor that the paver under her feet cracked and split into pieces.

"What on earth are _you_ doing here?"

* * *

><p><em>I know, I know, long time no see but at least I am still updating in 2012 ;) <em>

_I hope you had a wonderful Christmas and fantastic holidays :) Well, and of course I hope you liked the new chapter - going to update sooner from now on - I promise ;))_

_Lots of greetings, Eisteufel_

_P.S. Oh well and yes, yeah, yuhuu, Lau has finally appeared in the Kuroshitsuji Manga again... :))_


	11. Wounded Alley Cat

_Hello everyone... I know, I know... it really took me some time to write this chapter but without any further ado: the great confrontation between Lau and his little kitten. ^^  
><em>

_Hope you have fun reading and comments are candy ;)_

* * *

><p><em><strong>Chapter X<strong>_

_**Wounded Alley Cat**_

* * *

><p>The twigs and leaves of the cedars surrounding the shabby little courtyard rustled faintly in the chilly autumn wind, slightly rumpled up a pair of come undone braids and yanked at the decorative tresses that were adorning the dark blue clubs. The few loose strands of midnight black hair were for a short moment reflecting the dull, shimmering light of a yellow, ill-looking moon watching us from miles and miles above our heads.<p>

It felt like I had bitten off my tongue and swallowed it deep down into the depths of my dry larynx while I was under the cruel, dismissive supervision of those cold eyes which were missing even the slightest sympathy or compassion. In the dark of the night they weren't even gold anymore, the warm autumn sun had turned into a vicious thunderstorm, dark clouds of anger were darkening her usually golden irises until there was nothing left of them but pitch-black pupils. Staring at me like I was some kind of nasty vermin she wanted to eradicate as soon as possible.

The rasping sound of tightly gritted teeth reached my ears together with the anguished wailing of the wind. I couldn't tell which sound scared me more.

"Do I have to repeat myself?" she finally broke the smothering silence between us and lowered her hypnotizing gaze. There was that dangerously low voice again that sounded almost like the hissing of a cat. Her long fingers played impatiently with the handle of the heavy tool to her feet - they were itching to move that goddamn thing again.

"What on earth are you doing here?" she inquired, raising one of her thin black eyebrows in silent disapproval.

"Answer me!"

Her scream echoed from the wet brick work surrounding us like the walls of a prison.

Within split seconds she effortlessly lifted the massive club up in the air again, holding it right into my field of vision. Suddenly I could feel the cold, wooden wall behind my back more solid than ever - like a death row inmate would feel the wall which he was supposed to be shot against more intense like anything else he had ever experienced in his entire life.

"I… I…was searching and-" my swallowed tongue was desperately trying to work its way back into my mouth again but was failing miserably.

"Searching for what?" she interrupted me, her stare still pinning me against the wall with that interrogating gaze that would force even the bravest of soldiers to his knees. The club was still swaying in the air right in front of my face without even the slightest quiver or timber. As if it was weighting nothing more but one of her hairpins.

"Yao," my twisted tongue and sandpaper-dry mouth croaked huskily.

"Yao isn't here at this time of night."

It was more than obvious that she didn't believe a word that I had just said. Her eyebrows knitted, her constrained facial features were suddenly tensing up even more. Giving the massive weapon a violent jerk she came one step closer.

"Say, were you following me?" she snarled, her voice getting lower and lower with every further step that approached me.

"N-no…" I whispered feebly and I could feel how my legs were about to give in any second.

It was the only word that my constrained facial muscles and missing tongue were able to utter anymore. Every fiber of my body seemed to vibrate in excess and was tense like a bowstring at the same time. My racing mind could already imagine the picture of my brain and skull splattered all over the ramshackle stairs, making my blood pump through my veins like a raging stream of boiling crimson.

But instead of the deathly impact and the deafening bang I had expected I could only hear a small, malicious chuckle. My body cringed. That particular sound was worse than my brain splattered on the floor!

She sounded almost like her father when he was amused by something…_ no_… just like her father when he had tried to choke me!

A soft sigh escaped her lips and to my immense surprise she eventually lowered her arm and placed it gently onto the pavement again.

"Fine."

The faint smile she was displaying became vicious. It was more than obvious that _nothing_ was fine.

"Since you won't meet Yao tonight I'm afraid you have to put up with my company instead."

A short giggle took hold over her lean body and made it tremble.

"And as a good _sister _you know that I'm supposed to be your teacher."

The overemphasized, malicious whispering of the word _sister_ made my flesh creep and sent icy shivers down my spine. I almost tripped when I involuntarily tried to get more space between me and that dangerous, heavy thing to her feet which she had been hurling around through the air like it was nothing.

"So make your choice," she continued in exactly the same monotonous voice she had been using, when she was pouring tea at dinner. With a short nod her chin pointed towards a dreadfully impressive arsenal of weapons which she had carefully assembled right next to the shady stairs I was standing upon.

_What on earth is that dainty girl doing here in the middle of the night with all those weapons?_

Completely taken of guard I didn't move a single muscle and simply kept on standing there like a frightened pillar of salt. It annoyed her to no end.

"Pick whatever weapon you like," she ordered in a voice that would tolerate no dissident. Her fingernails were scraping over the wooden handle of her club at a steadily quickening pace.

"I… but I…"

"Do it already or I make you choose one!"

The threat behind the order was unmistakable. As quickly as my quivering body allowed I got down on my haunches and took a short, disgusted look at the different weapons displayed to me feet.

The closest thing to a weapon I had ever possessed was that blunt bread knife which was in a way responsible for this hell of a situation I was up to my throat into right now. Hectically my eyes scanned over the daggers, swords and spears until my fingers clung fervently around the handle of a broad, long sabre which turned out to be surprisingly light when I lifted it up into the air. It was a strange feeling to hold something that deadly in my grasp. But what was even more terrifying was the purpose why I was holding it.

"You want me to fight you then…" I mumbled completely lost in thoughts and I turned around reluctantly, the knuckles of my fingers already white and rigid. How the hell was supposed to wield this thing? And how was I supposed to fight a small girl?

"Isn't that obvious?" her answer didn't even sound like a question anymore.

She accompanied her words with a short, lackadaisical shrug of her small shoulders. Even in the pale light of the decreasing moon I could see how muscular her upper arms were, sinews tensed under her porcelain skin when she slightly shifted the weight of her arms. No... this small girl was anything but weak.

"But why?"

It felt so terribly, _terribly_ wrong. The saber in my hand, the clubs in hers, that emotionless expression on her face that seemed to be stripped off any feelings…

"Why? You really ask me _why_?"

It took my brain several seconds to cope with this bizarre situation. Like a berserk who had been suddenly freed from his chains she had been leaping at me without any prior warning and was assaulting me like an assassin, hurling her clubs through the air with versed movements and brute force. The metal was clinking and quaking under the massive impact of her blow when her clubs hit the thin blade of my sabre. Sparks were sent up into the darkened sky and the creaking sound of metal against metal became deafening. The sabre was jarring as if it was about to break in half any second when I fervently tried my best to keep her weapon at bay, placing my other hand on the blade to support my only defence and to prevent it from breaking into pieces.

Out of my eyes corner I could only get a glimpse of that deadpan face of the girl that was doing its best to slain me then and there. A wicked smile tugged at the corners of her lips.

"You really want to know why?" she repeated and effortlessly intensified the pressure of her club on my thin piece of metal.

"_It's because I hate people like you_!"

One last burtal inpact made me loose my footing and I stumbled backwards, frantically fighting for balance.

Taking two elegant, quick jumps backwards as well, she positions herself again for another fatal blow which almost immediately descended upon me. I escaped the deadly blow only at hairsbreadth when I dashed aside and fell hard onto my already throbbing elbow. Instantaneously a wave of hot and searing pain rushed through my arm and upper body, made me gasp for breath and for the blink of an eye my vision became all white and hazy. Swallowing the pain as good as I could, I tried my best to get onto my feet again, her words still echoing in my ears like an infinite loop.

"People like me?" I panted entirely perplexed, constantly interrupted by sharp, heavy breaths that were scorching my lungs. The cracking sound of shattering pavement right next to my head made my body move against my will and without even noticing I was already standing on my feet again, lifting that saber in front of my chest to counter her attacks, ready and waiting for everything that was about to come. And even though that girl had set her mind to the insane idea of killing me, I couldn't simply withstand the urge to admirer her appearance.

She was good and it was definitely not the first time she was wielding her weapons of choice. Not even a single drop of sweat could be seen on her face, her breath was low and steady as if she wasn't fighting but sitting at a table making conversation. The icy wind freed another of her black strands and made her look more than ever like an avenging angel.

"Yes, people like _you."_

Every single word was acid. Her voice was nothing more but a toneless whisper, just barely distinguishable from the wind and the rustling leaves. Nonetheless, it felt like her words had morphed into burning daggers that were sinking into my flesh deep and deeper with every further elapsed second.

"Then tell me, what have I done to you that you hate me so much?" I cried helplessly, lowering the saber in defeat, tears of anger and exhausting running down my cheeks.

"What did I do to you?"

Ran-Mao's features had long ago ceased to be stoic and emotionless. All kind of bad feelings were written all over her face and fighting for superiority. The result of that inner turmoil was that horribly distorted grimace that had taken over the remains of what once had been her pretty doll-like face.

"I hate them… all of them. People who try to obtain my father's trust by fraud. Like those women my father brings home every day, every night. To the meetings with his clients, to our dinners, to his bedroom… sullying the remembrance of my mother…" she yelled, her voice was cracking. For a moment it looked like she was about to burst into tears until her eyes narrowed again.

"People like you who come from the gutter and insinuate themselves into my weak father's confidence."

The yellow eyes of a wounded alley cat. She yanked the massive clubs above her head again, ready for one final, devastating blow and swooped down on me in an unleashed fury.

"HOW COULD YOU NOT HATE SOMETHING LIKE THAT?"

"Ran-Mao, please stop this lunacy!" I squealed in blind panic, manically tightening the already firm grip around the sabers handle even more while I tried my best to dodge her countless strikes and blows that suddenly seemed to come from every possible direction at once. It was only a matter of time until one of them would finally hit me. The blow in my stomach hit me with such vigor that it took my breath away and made me stagger backwards. I fell onto the dirt covered ground with such severity that I was unable to breath for several seconds. A piercing pain rankled through my aching lungs while all remaining air was pressed out of them at one single blow. Everything suddenly sounded way too far away, brassy and hollow as if her voice was speaking to me out of some kind of metallic tube. I couldn't distinguish separate words anymore, they faded into one ongoing roaring train of sounds.

_Don't faint! Oh please don't faint_! I pleaded silently and suddenly the memory of praying exactly the same words when her father had almost killed me flooded back into my opting out mind with all their might. A startled, desperate gasp for sufficient air was all I was still capable off, closing me eyes, wanting nothing more but to block out that dark world while lying there petrified. I could still feel the adrenalin pulsing frantically through my veins, awaiting the last, final impact that would end everything. Waiting for it to end...

_A single little butterfly. A scarlet field of poppies in full bloom. The sweet scent of flowers and the world lost all contours. Even the poppies faded to gray. __Only a few more kicks and everything would be over. Only a little more pain and it finally would __be over... _

But the end never came.

Eyes still closed I listened into the night and a strange sound slowly crept into my mind.

A weakly suppressed sobbing.

When I opened my eyes and looked into the night the avenging angel was gone and had nothing left behind but a small girl, whose whole body was shaken by the sobs she was trying to gulp back. Thin arms were wrapped tightly around her bent knees while she was weeping bitterly, rocking back and forth, back and forth again and again and again.

* * *

><p><em>Thank you for reading^^ The little kitten finally shows its claws. Meow =^.^=<em>


End file.
